After Hera’s Masquerade Ball, Naveen decides to ask for professional help to find Christine, the beautiful and mysterious woman that he had danced with.
Part I in the Search for Christine (tm)
Naveen
Naveen, by nature, was not an anxious person. He scoffed at authority figures not because they weren’t necessary—they were of course, to a degree—but because the rigidity and formality that they always had. As a result, he tended to avoid them. This was especially prudent in the streets of Maldonia when they were trying to drag them back to whatever dry ordeal that they needed him for. Needless to say, it was with a touch of irony that he made his way to the police station. Not a touch of regret, mind you, because he certainly did not regret the reason for going. The situation was just humorous to him, as some situations just happened to be. But, walking in, he only recognized one of the cops—Copper, which was another ironic thing—and Naveen didn’t think he left the most favorable impression (to be fair, his wrist was broken but he supposed that paled in comparison to Lou and wow Naveen was cutting off that thought because he refused to deal with that whole spectacle for now). “Hullo. I, um, got a case for the cops?”
Copper
Copper and Rajah were doing the typical stand-around-the-water-cooler talk. Except in this case the water cooler was coffee machine and for once, they were just idly chatting. Work had come before and work would come later, but it was coffee time, both Rajah and Copper needing a bit of a mental reboot, running circles around their vampire case. He was in the middle of griping about the Guy Fawkes bonfire, which, yeah, was still work, oops, when Naveen approached them. He hadn't seen the man since the trailer (and Naveen was right, he hadn't left the most favorable impression at all.) Copper looked at Rajah and then back to Naveen. "Right," he nodded. "Is this an urgent matter...or?" Something about the way Naveen had acted before (panicked and, honestly, a bit of a drama queen) made him feel like it wasn't.
Rajah
Rajah was in the middle of a sentence, thanks, when the man came in, complainin' right along with Copper about the bonfire (but mostly because Swynlake had fireworks for Guy Fawkes and he hadn't been allowed to shoot some off for Diwali? What the fuck was that?). His eyebrows shot up. He didn't think he'd seen the man before, but the way Copper looked at him, it seemed like they'd interacted. He adjusted where he stood, taking a sip of his coffee-- letting Copp take the lead, which y'know, was only right of 'im.
Naveen
Naveen nodded very seriously. Obviously it seemed as if Copper was doubting what he was going to say. And to be fair, the vampire case was extremely important. Definitely more important actually, what with the possibly death that could happen. Probably—he didn't know that much about vampires actually. But from what he heard, they weren't exactly making leaping bounds of progress. Either way, he needed to find her. Christine. He could still feel her hand, see that shimmering white dress that resembled the movie so much. "Definitely important," he scratched the back of his head, "I'm looking for someone. A missing person."
Copper
Copper's stomach dropped into his knees and he glanced at Rajah. Another attack. That was the first thought in his head. Of course, none of the alarm was immediately clear on his face, but he was sure Rajah could read it there, even if Naveen couldn't. Taking a deep breath, he absently set his coffee down and gestured for Naveen to follow him. "Right this way, Mr. Charles, please, let's go to my office so we can get more information." He turned and walked down the hall to his office. Then, he closed the door after Rajah entered and gestured for Naveen to take a seat. "When did you last see them?" Always the first question. Always the most important one.
Rajah
Not another. Rajah's jaw ticked, and he had to duck his head actually, to hide the flash of concern. He wasn't as good at poker facing the way Copper could. He could do it, course, all cops needed to but he had to be prepared and right now, with his body a bit jittery on the coffee (which was making up from his measly three hours of sleep and the fact it was approaching afternoon, when tigers liked to stretch out and nap), he wasn't on his game. But he quickly found that composure and put it on, following both Naveen and Copper. He stood off to the side a little, eyes flicking between Naveen and Copper.
Naveen
Naveen was slightly pleased himself at the reaction. Not in necessarily a good way, since cases were bad in general, but was glad to see how accepting the cops seemed to be about the case. I mean, Copper even knew his last name. He followed his way into the office, noticing how even the other cop was following. Should probably ask him his name, but...yep there was a badge/nametag. Rajah Patel. And Copper's last name was Russell. Nice that he didn't have to ruin the rather somber atmosphere that had suddenly occurred. "Must be about...three days now? Admittedly I waited a bit because I thought that I would be able to find her by myself."
Copper
Three days. Copper's heart followed his stomach down to his knees. Jesus. A flare of annoyance flashed in him, though he kept it under control behind that stony facade. This was why you came to the police immediately. That was what had saved Kiara, in the end. And if he'd just been quicker with Faline...he shook that thought off internal and sighed deeply. Instead of growling, you idiot like he wanted to, he merely clenched his jaw, and then said. "Okay, we need to know the last place she was seen, her name, and your relation to her. And any other information that can help us, favorite places, friends, enemies. Anything like that."
Rajah
Rajah had already gotten out his pad of paper to record all this information down. He looked to Naveen now.
Naveen
Now that was a lot of information that frankly..he didn't know. Another reason why authority figures unnerved him. Always asking questions and expecting answers that he didn't know but was supposed to know. All with that expressionless poker face. "I'm sorry but...don't know. That's why I'm looking for them in the first place. Because they're missing but I want to find them. I can still give you all the facts I have." See, he was getting nervous again. Trying to compensate for his lack of knowledge that he couldn't do anything about. Why couldn't he have chosen the cop who had a friendly demeanor? Oh well, nothing he could do now but blame bad luck.
Copper
What the bloody fuck did that even mean? That this person was missing, that he wanted to find them, that he didn't know shit about them. It took a second, a few, long seconds where the gears turned in Copper's head. And then it all clicked together at once and his eyes widened and then narrowed at Naveen. This man had been daft before in the trailer, whining about being cold and needing help for nothing more than a broken hand when there had been people bleeding out with fractured pelvises and a bloody pole sticking out of them. But, this. This was on a whole other level of stupidity. Copper crossed his arms and leaned against his desk, quite close to Naveen, their legs almost touching. He bent forwards a little bit. "Are you telling me that you're simply looking for someone you don't know and you want us to help you get in contact with them?" The rage was boiling just below the surface, but he kept it in check. Oi, he wanted to strangle this guy.
Rajah
Rajah had been pen poised at the ready to start recording info, and he was itching to get the chance to hop in, ask for something of this person's-- because yeah three days, any scent would be minimal, but he could at least pick up something tiny that could point 'em in the right direction. But he frowned along with Copper at the man's answer. He didn't jump to an assumption, 'course; well, he assumed the stranger wasn't going to waste their time, really, that his intentions were in the right place. But as soon as Copper growled what he did, Rajah's eyebrows flew high on his forehead. "Wait, what?" he said and leaned forward again, his face twisted in his confusion, still.
Naveen
Naveen looked at them, confused. Wasn't that what they had been talking about the whole time? Based on Copper's face, clearly not. Which was confusing in itself, since Naveen had stated that he was looking for a missing person when he was, in fact, looking for a missing person. Bit of a miscommunication happening here, on both parts. "I'm with Patel here. What?" Oops, accidentally let it slip that he had taken a look on Rajah's name tag. Or randomly knew his name which was more creepy since they had never met before but less creepy since Rajah was the deputy and all. "Look mis amigos, I met this wonderful, beautiful woman at Hera's Halloween Masquerade Event—a charming lady, by the way—and wish to contact her once again. She...she is Christine and I am the Phantom, you see? Minus all those anger issues, I'm a glücklich man."
[translation: my friends; I'm a happy man]
Copper
If Copper had been holding a pencil instead of a plastic pen, it most definitely would've snapped in half as his anger spiked. "We're not a goddamn dating service," Copper snapped at the buffoon before him. "Missing persons means someone who is in danger."
Rajah
It took Raj a moment, looking at Naveen's wide open face, and then Copper's as it contorted in his rage. It was really the dichotomy between the two--the utter difference, the disconnect-- that ended up making his own mouth split open. He laughed. He couldn't help it-- he just laughed. "You-- you--arre wah!" he exclaimed, and laughed even more. "Waah, ye lajawab hai!" He bent over himself, and then reached for the desk to steady himself as he continued to snicker. "Oh I--can't believe this-- you thought-- you--" More laughter. Sorry Copp.
[translation: oh wow!! wow this is incredible!]
Naveen
Naveen almost smiled again. That is to say, he tried not to but failed. Wasn't his fault exactly; he just found other people's laughter impossibly contagious. He managed to stop from chuckling himself—since the situation for himself wasn't that funny—but his serious facade was broken slightly with a smile. Not even his normal broad smile, but a smile nonetheless. Wouldn't hurt if the same trait affected Copper as well. "You see, I thought it would be...more safe to find her with cops than by myself, you see? Less creepier." he glanced back at the emotionless cop, "Not that it's...I'm sure she'll appreciate it. It's a search for my princess, so to speak."
Copper
Copper could not believe this guy. He was absolutely flabbergasted, didn't know what to say--felt his anger boiling up though. That gave him a voice--and, y'know, normally Copper kept a very good lid on his anger. It came out in short, bitten words of annoyance, but he very rarely ever yelled. Right now, oh yeah, he wanted to yell. Felt it burning in his chest. "We're not a dating service, I don't care if the girl is a bloody princess unless you're part of her royal guard or some shit and she actually needs finding. This is a police station--we solve crimes, not find whatever girl ran out on you, you daft--" Copper cut himself off with a snort, jaw ticking.
Rajah
Now, maybe back in London, he would have agreed with Copper-- shown this guy the door and grumbled and snapped because of course the station would have better things to do. And Swynlake did have better things to do, yeah-- they had open cases and real crime. But most of those crimes had stalled and everyone was so beat down day to day as the town berated them and they didn't get anywhere. This was easy. This was--manageable. This was good. Raj might not be able to save many lives anymore, but he could help a bloke find love. At least somebody would get some. "Wait-- just a second," Raj broke in. He caught Copp's look, knew that his partner was going to think he was daft. But fine then, so he was daft. "I mean it's, it's not really what we do and-- Copp's really too busy, probably but--my, er, light is loader this week. I... can maybe take this on," Raj said with a little shrug. "As long as you agree-- never to use the station for somethin' like this again."
Naveen
Naveen listened to Copper of course, but he was internally thinking of his own arguments, as all humans are prone to do. First of all, he thought that cops should be a bit more politer, even if it was a stupid demand or not. Second, he thought that if a guard had lost their princess then they had bigger things to worry about—like how/why they lost the princess in the first place. (and yes, he was a tiny bit insulted that the cop thought that he would be a guard as opposed to the actual prince he was, but Copper didn't really know better) Third—didn't really matter, since Rajah seemed to be agreeing! Naveen went over and shook Rajah's hand, even though he wasn't holding it out or anything. Better than what his original action what was going to be. "Of course, of course! Heard and understood, I assure you. Ideally I wouldn't need to come since I met the love of my life, but either way, 'course not. Good luck with the vampire case too!"
July 22nd, 11:48 p.m. || Simala feat. Claw and Order
Kiara doesn’t show up at curfew. Nala and Simba play the part of worried af parents.
SIMBA:
Simba wasn’t panicking.
Nope.
He was--fine.
Really.
Not panicking.
That would be an overreaction and Simba was not overreacting. Kiara was probably at a party. Her phone was turned off. She’d left it somewhere. Maybe she’d dropped it in the punch bowl. Probably didn’t have Nala or Simba’s number memorized. She could be having sex (ew, ew) but anything was better than what the signs were really pointing to.
Kiara hadn’t been heard from since eight o’clock. Kiara was supposed to walk home from play practice. Or she was supposed to let Nala know she was doing something else. Simba had been the last one to talk to her, far as he knew, and she hadn’t mentioned anything.
Nothing made sense about it.
It was Swynlake, people didn’t just get taken off the street.
His heart was pounding, rushing in his ears as he tore through his house calling her name--checking her old room, checking the third floor, checking his room and the kitchen and the laundry room and the fucking bathroom and didn’t even find a sign of her.
His heart was almost exploding by the time he got to Nala’s, bursting inside without even knocking. “Is she back yet?” he asked as soon as he spotted Nala.
Simba wasn’t panicking.
NALA:
11:48.
Nala checked the clock every two minutes and she had been doing so for the nearly two hours. As soon as the clock hit 10, she’d started looking. As each call to Kiara’s phone went unanswered-- each text ignored-- she kept looking, kept checking the time and watching as it crawled toward midnight. She’d waited until about 11:10 or so to call Simba. By then, she’d left fourteen angry voicemails and sent over twenty-something texts. She could count if she wanted-- but she was too busy checking the clock.
11:49.
Kiara had never done this before. She always called if she was going to be late. She always had some kind of an excuse, even if Nala could tell it was a rather shoddy one and Kiara just wanted to, most likely, smoke some pot in the park and then spritz her clothes before coming home. Still, she called.
11:50. Something had to be wrong.
The door opened and Nala jerked from the couch, practically bouncing to her feet. But it wasn’t Kiara-- it was Simba. She’d never been more relieved and more disappointed to see him at the same time. Both emotions flashed like lightning across her face, leaving her feeling stricken.
Bowie scampered to him, none the wiser of what was going on. Nala barely noticed the pup.
“No,” she breathed out-- stared at Simba and then her vision started to blur with tears, her next words shaky as she tried to control her rising panic. “She wasn’t at your place?”
SIMBA:
Bowie went unnoticed by Simba as well--or, noticed enough that Simba took a longer stride in order to avoid stepping on the golden fluffball as he made his way over to Nala, putting his hands on her biceps immediately. He didn’t even think about it. Just needed to touch someone. To touch Nala.
The feeling of her warm skin under his fingers grounded him, but his heart was still leaping around in him like a rubber ball against cement. One moment in his throat, then his stomach, then his chest.
She looked as worried as he felt, his fingers squeezing her a bit tighter than he might’ve meant to as he searched her teary gaze. Simba didn’t feel like crying; he felt like punching something.
“No.” Simba shook his head and released Nala, took a step back until he was in front of the couch and then, he began to pace.
“Where could she be? She seemed fine at practice. She was fine. I would’ve known if she wasn’t. I would’ve known.”
Back and forth across the floor, his hand behind his head, scratching irritatedly at his hair.
NALA:
11:50. Still.
Her eyes had bounced to the clock as soon as Simba pulled away from her. She could feel the impression that his fingers had made in her arm, but she was staring straight at the clock, and could barely hear Simba as he began to move around her apartment.
“I don’t know,” she said. Her words floated in the air. They didn’t sound like her. She didn’t feel like herself.
She watched the clock turn 11:51.
“I don’t know,” she repeated again, louder, as a tear slipped down her cheek. She spun away from the clock and toward Simba, her arms crossing over her chest as she spoke the thoughts that had been racing on a loop in her head all night. “Simba, this isn’t like her. She wouldn’t forget to call me, she would have answered a text, this isn’t-- isn’t like her, she would have lied before she didn’t talk to me--” The words rushed out of her mouth as she walked toward him. It was her turn to try to grip at his arm, to stop him from pacing. “Something’s wrong, I know it, I know something has gone wrong--”
SIMBA:
Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.
The words had been playing on a loop ever since Nala had called him. He knew it. Knew it in his gut. Knew it just as fiercely as Nala did. He just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. He hadn’t wanted to believe that it was true, or possible, or real. This was a bad dream. Simba had those. He had them a lot. Of course, they were always the same one--his father’s death on a loop in his head like some sort of fucked up Groundhog’s Day movie.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have others. So that’s what this was. He was in a dream. Nala was going to sprout another arm and Bowie was going to turn into a peacock.
Nala’s hand felt so real on his arm though when it brushed against his shirt sleeve. He had twisted away from it, not wanting her to touch him, not wanting to confirm what he knew in his heart.
This was real and something was wrong.
“She’ll be back. Her phone died, o-or something. She’ll...she’ll be back.” Simba glanced at Nala on his next loop, saw the tear track on her cheek and skidded to a stop in front of her, Bowie running into his ankles from where he’d been following his dad back and forth across the floor.
Simba touched her cheek. “She’ll be back,” he repeated again, though he didn’t actually believe it.
NALA:
She shook her head and kept shaking her head at each one of Simba’s words. She didn’t believe them and couldn’t believe in them because it meant not doing anything. It meant sitting and waiting. Nala had sat and waited for nearly two hours now-- even before that. She’d been waiting since Kiara was supposed to leave play practice.
She was done waiting. Was she overreacting? Frankly, Nala didn’t care.
So she shook her head at Simba and spoke fiercely once he was done. “We can’t wait any longer. It’s midnight, Simba. What if -- what if she fell and hurt herself? Sh-she could be anywhere, she could be alone or-- or --” she didn’t want to consider all the possibilities. “We can’t just wait and hope and do nothing.”
SIMBA:
Simba was a man of action.
He’d never hesitated jumping into things. It was his default setting to leap. It was not in his personality to look. To consider all the options before making a decision. That was usually Nala, honestly. She was the one who thought things through.
But, this, it paralyzed Simba with a fear so cold that it felt like his heart had stopped beating--all the blood in his veins turned to ice.
His jaw ticked as he ground his teeth together harshly and he nodded at Nala, digging his phone out of his pocket with the hand that wasn’t still touching her cheek. That was what kept him grounded in the reality. Nala’s warm, slightly damp cheek under his fingers. The fear in her eyes.
“I’m calling the police.”
Simba flicked his phone open and dialed the Sheriff’s Department. Went back to pacing as it rang. Eventually, the gruff voice of the Sheriff.
“‘Ello?”
“Sheriff Russell?”
“This is he.”
“Right, um, okay, this is Simba Lyons. Um--my cousin. My little cousin, Kiara, she hasn’t come home. She’s staying with a friend of mine and she always comes home. Or she calls. Or texts. Her phone is on but it just keeps ringing and we--we’re afraid something has happened to her.”
There was silence on the other side of the line for just a moment. Simba’s heart was in his throat. He glanced at Nala.
“How old is she?”
A lump caught in Simba’s throat. “S-she’s sixteen. She’s got, like, bright blue hair. She’s never late. She calls. She always calls.”
“When was the last time anyone saw her?”
Simba stopped the pacing for a moment and took a shuttering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. A tear slipped down his face. “Me. I was--I was the last one who saw her.”
“Where?”
“The theatre, at play practice. It was around 7:30, I had to leave early to go to work. I normally walk her home. I always walk her home.”
It was quiet again for a few moments that stretched like eternity out in front of Simba as he stared at one of the bright abstract paintings on the far wall.
“Sir, I’m going to be honest with you: a sixteen year old girl not answering her phone on a Friday night doesn’t--”
“Something’s wrong!” Simba snapped, voice strained into the phone. “I know it, I know it in my gut. Please.”
“Where are you currently?”
“My friend’s place, Castle Suites, apartment 7C.”
“Alright. My partner and I are currently down on Main Street but we’ll swing by and get some more information.”
“Hurry, please.”
“Just sit tight, we’ll be there soon.”
Simba snapped the phone shut and stopped in front of Nala again. “They’re on the way.”
NALA:
Nala was prepared to snatch the phone out of Simba’s hand the second she thought the police officer might be giving him any sort of resistance. Didn’t he hear the way Simba’s voice constricted? Didn’t he hear what Simba said-- that Kiara always called? She would snatch that phone so fast and tell the Sheriff a thing or two. But she didn’t. Her jaw tightened and her throat felt thick with her tears, her frustration, those words she wouldn’t get to shout.
She looked at the clock. 11:58.
Nala didn’t know how to pass any more time. So she went to the couch again-- Bowie hopping at her ankles as she did-- and collapsed onto it. Instantly she pushed her hands against her face and breathed in deeply, sighing out the breath in another second. Her hands came down, fisting themselves together on her knees.
That knee of hers bounced. She couldn’t get it to stop bouncing.
This wasn’t like her at all, either. Nala knew that. Nala kept her cool, Nala could rationalize but Nala-- her gut twisted and she couldn’t, couldn’t think past that feeling. That terrible twisting, sinking feeling.
SIMBA:
If there was one thing that Simba could do, it was rise.
When someone else fell, Simba could catch them. It was his immediate instinct--faster than any other reaction of his, it exploded more quickly out of him. He’d always thought it was his duty, his calling, to take care of those around him. Of course, his panic was a loud siren in his ear, whirring and whining and drowning out almost everything else.
Except for Nala’s distress.
That he felt so deeply, like it was right alongside his own. And he wanted to fix it.
Of course, part of him wanted to pace the floor still--all that worry turning into energy that bubbled in his veins, keeping the fear at bay only by action, by keeping the blood hot. But Nala needed him. Nala needed him to be calm and strong and collected. His knee could not bounce. His hands and voice could not shake.
Taking a breath, his phone still clutched in his hand, Simba strode over to the couch, sat down as close to Nala as he possibly could. He placed one of his hands over her own, feeling the jittering movement of her knee rippling through him. His forehead pressed against her temple for a moment.
“It’s going to be okay.” He squeezed his long fingers around that closed fist. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered fiercely to her, his voice as firm as he could make it.
NALA:
He’d not been this close to her in a while. The last time was the cheek kiss in Hatter’s-- brief, tender, and just like her old Simba, who was never far and who always reached out to comfort and reassure Nala when she needed it.
And here he was again, her Simba, as if risen from the dead. But Nala didn’t even notice that-- or think that. She forgot the last three years had even happened. They were them. Instantly. United by their worry, their fear, and their love for one blue-haired girl lost somewhere in the streets.
She looked at him at once, turned her whole body toward him so their knees knocked, and didn’t take her hand away.
“Simba, I’m not overreacting, am I?” She plead with her eyes, bit at her own lip. “What if we’re--we’re too late? I should have called you right away when she didn’t pick up her phone.” Nala began to shake her head at herself-- blaming herself, because it was already so late, two whole hours and no word.
SIMBA:
Simba’s stomach turned over.
Nala’s words made him sick. They echoed the fear he felt inside his own chest. Of course they did, because for once--for once in over a thousand days--Nala and Simba were on the same page. Everything clicked and despite the horrible worry settled deep into their bones, they had each other. And there was nothing that the two of them could not do.
He held her gaze, those dark, dark eyes--almost black, but one of the warmest colours Simba had ever seen. Nala’s eyes had always been so bright and friendly, despite their hue. Even worried now, they still shimmered full of life.
“Don’t,” Simba replied immediately, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t do that. This isn’t your fault. It isn’t too late. We’re going to--we’re going to find her. She’s probably just--just out. O-or something. She’ll bounce in the door soon enough. And she’ll laugh at us for being so worried.”
He gave a brief, huff of laughter that fell flat even to his own ears. “You’re not overreacting.” His eyes dropped from hers for a moment. “I’m scared too.”
NALA:
Out. Out where, she wanted to despair right then, and then fly from the couch again. She kept feeling waves of restlessness that wanted to move her feet, send her out her door and patrolling through the streets. The only thing that kept her anchored was the thought that maybe, just maybe, Kiara would walk through the door again.
“She should have called,” Nala said again-- she’d said it, it felt like, one hundred times. But it didn’t make sense. “Even if her phone was dead, if she was out she would have used a friend’s-- which means she’s alone somewhere-- why would she be alone?”
Her knee bounced again. “She wouldn’t forget. She wouldn’t just forget to let me know, she knows better than that--”
She heard a knock at the door.
SIMBA (ft. Copper):
Simba didn’t know what to say, for several different reasons.
For one, Nala was always sure. She was positive and upbeat, even in the darkest moments. Of course, she was reasonable, but in a situation like this she should be more optimistic, believe that Kiara would be home soon. That she would bounce through that door.
For two, Simba was terrified himself. He’d probably never been so terrified in his entire life. It shook him down to his very core. It rattled him. It made him want to be sick.
For three, he did not want to lie to Nala, but he felt like he should. That he needed to make sure she didn’t fret herself into a frenzy. They needed to keep their heads. Simba could feel the panic rising in him like waves, but he kept just pushing them back down. Tried not to pay attention to them. Focused on Nala.
Before he could come up with an adequate response, there was a knock.
At first, Simba’s heart lept for joy, thinking for just a split second it was Kiara on the other side, but just as his heart lept, he felt it come tumbling back down into his gut as he realized that she wouldn’t knock. That it was the police.
Simba glanced at Nala, squeezed her hand, and then stood up from the couch, going towards the door, Bowie at his heels. When he opened it, there stood Copper Russell and his deputy, Rajah Patel.
“Evening,” Simba said, stepping aside and gesturing for them to come in, sweeping Bowie out of the way with his foot.
Copper smiled at the pup and then smiled tightly at Simba, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “Simba Lyons, I presume? I’m sorry your cousin is worrying you like this, but I’m sure everything is fi--”
“Don’t you dare finish that with fine,” Simba cut him off, voice tight, eyes hard as he closed the door with an audible bang. “It’s not. Kiara never does this. Kiara comes home.”
NALA (ft. Rajah):
She sprang from the couch at once, just as Simba left too. Her worries came with her. She couldn’t shake them, nor could she even feel relief, knowing that the police were here. She tried to feel relief, tried to remind herself that now that they’d gotten help, it would all be alright. They’ll track her down, she thought to herself. The police will handle it.
But it did nothing for the sick feeling in her gut. She took a few steps away from the couch so her door was in view and saw the new bodies shuffle indoors-- first the Russell bloke, then the darker fellow, who was slightly shorter. A lump appeared in her throat as she heard the Sheriff start to speak, only to be shut down by Simba the next second.
She needed to join the fray.
She walked fast toward them. “He’s right, she always does.” She stopped right by Simba’s side. Her bare toes curled into her carpet, but she stood straight and tall, looking Copper right in the eye. “You don’t-- understand. She’s not a bad kid, she’d never just...disappear without a text, unless she physically couldn’t send one.”
Did she sound crazy? Did this man think she was crazy? She wasn’t crazy. She knew Kiara.
The darker fellow-- Rajah-- nodded and glanced briefly at his partner. “Of course. We’re gonna do everything we can to make sure Kiara’s safe. We just have a few questions.”
Nala had no idea if he was sincere. If either were. But she’d take it. Nodding, she turned again and paced back into the living room, talking as she did, assuming they’d follow. “I-- I have a picture you can take, it’s really recent-- I mean, you honestly can’t miss her, she has this bright blue hair--”
Nala snatched at her purse on the coffee table and dug out her wallet, getting the picture of Kiara she kept in there.
COPPER (ft. Simba):
Copper had dealt with cases like this before--sorta. He’d never dealt with cousin plus cousin’s friend. It was always worried parents. Always overreacting, worried parents. 90% of the time a child was out, did something stupid with their phone, or stayed out because they already knew they were in trouble and fuck it, why not get in more?
He’d told Rajah before he came in they’d play it cool, gather the information they needed, do a patrol around the area, perhaps hit the Woods and see if she was at any of the house parties, the ones they broke up sending her scurrying home.
It was probably nothing.
Copper sincerely hoped that it was nothing.
The man at the door was all stiff lines, looked like he was about to brawl with someone sooner rather than later and the woman was slight and nervous as she rustled around in her purse.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Copper said politely and evenly, feeling Simba’s eyes on him the whole time. “Anything like that is helpful. I understand she’s a good girl, but, we all remember being a teenager.” He felt Simba about to speak and plowed ahead, turning to look him in the eye.
“That’s not to say that something might not’ve happened, but, it’s best not to think the worst. She’s only been out a few hours. Could be nothing. Could be something. Let’s just get all the information first.”
Simba’s jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest.
NALA (ft. Rajah):
She got the picture and turned and there was Rajah, ready to take it. She handed it to him and he nodded his thanks-- smiled a bit, she figured he was trying to be comforting-- and pressed it against a notepad he was carrying to.
“What else do you need to know?” she asked. She knew Simba was twitching at the door and this Sheriff guy was too calm for her liking-- not taking her as seriously as she felt was necessary-- but he was right. They needed the information first. There were pieces here missing. There were things she could say, to be helpful. They could check around town and she could stay here in case Kiara did come home and that alone would help Nala, help her feel like she was doing something, even if she wasn’t out there scouring the streets herself.
“How about a list of places you think she might be,” answered Rajah. He clicked his pen and looked between Nala and Simba. “Friends’ addresses, favourite hang-outs, that sort of thing.”
“We already called her girlfriend,” Nala supplied at once. “But I can give you her address if you want to check around there.”
“Sure,” said Rajah. “S’all helpful.”
“She likes the lake,” Nala continued. “I know she goes there sometimes.” She looked at Simba then, for any of his input.
SIMBA (ft. Copper):
This was a waste of time.
From the moment the two stepped over the threshold with their placating smiles and calmness, Simba was ready to bolt out the door, run down streets bellowing Kiara’s name until he heard her answer him. Every blood cell in his veins was vibrating. He needed to be doing something. Kiara could be out there, alone. And it was raining.
The light blue of the officer’s uniforms were darker on the shoulders and droplets clung to their hair.
Simba wanted to scream. He wanted to throw a punch, if only to relieve some of the restless energy.
“Wouldn’t it just be faster for us to do it? We already know them. This is pointless,” he growled, letting his hands swing down and curl into fists at his sides.
“No. You’ve got to stay here unless she turns up--”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Sir, I know you’re upset but you need to let us do our job. We’ve handled cases like this before.”
“No, you haven’t, this is Kiara! Not some rascal who isn’t paid attention to.”
Copper put out a hand and the urge to knock it aside welled up so strongly in Simba that his fist began to visibly shake.
“You’re just pacifying us, you’re not gonna do anything, you wor--”
NALA:
So Simba wasn’t being particularly helpful.
She let him growl and fight for about five seconds, because honestly, Nala felt his frustration, could feel it in her chest like a tightly wound ball of fire, waiting to explode in every single direction. She was barely keeping it together, but she had to-- at least in front of these blokes. Copper’s instruction had been enough to focus her at least. Get all the information. Nala could do that. She could give them all of it and then some. She wanted as many eyes on the street as she could get.
But it felt good to hear Simba growl a little of what she was feeling. Until it didn’t feel good and she realized Simba was about to attack the two for no real reason. Then she’d have an assault charge on Simba and no pairs of eyes on the streets.
So she snapped. “Simba!” She glared at him too, grabbed at his arm, squeezed and yanked him back a step. “Stop.”
Then her gaze snapped back to the officers. “I’m sorry-- we’re worried. We’re really, really worried. I know you have cases like this all the time, I know that to you this might just be another trouble-making teenager, I know-- I know that maybe she’ll come through that door and it’ll all be fine, but please, until that happens I need you to consider the worst case scenario. I ne-need--” She was pleading now, nearly crying again. “She’s just a girl.”
SIMBA (ft. Copper):
Copper put the outstretched hand on Nala’s shoulder and Simba saw a flash of red. Not that he could, but he had a vision of ripping Copper’s hand away, grabbing the wrist so hard that he bruised the pale skin.
But, as usual, Nala’s voice stopped him. Jerked him into reality, where Kiara was missing and two police officers were wanting to help.
Simba didn’t apologize, because he wasn’t sorry, but he did gesture for the pad and pen, and in his chicken-scratch handwriting began to list names and the addresses--or the ones he knew anyway.
“She’s got quite a few people in the play she hangs out with--Kiki Takayama, that Tremaine girl--Zella, I think, I dunno, I can’t really tell them apart, Snow...White, I wanna say her name is? She lives with her partner up at Edelwiess Estate. Uh, Tink Bell, she’s my boss, but they’re relatively close, she might be at her place, I’m not sure why she would be. That’s all I’ve got,” he said helplessly, desperately, looking to Nala.
NALA (ft. Rajah):
This was better. Nala’s worried heart was still racing, but didn’t feel as erratic as she listened to the scratch of the pen on paper. She looked at Simba and soaked in these names too, names she had heard from Kiara’s lips before. Kiki-- the young sorceress with the talking cat director who was apparently a laugh-- Zella, who Kiara technically hated-- and Snow, who was, according to Kiara, one of the nicest and coolest people.
Any one of them maybe saw her last. Had some idea. Could help out. She nodded along, glanced at Copper and Rajah.
“I think that’s all. She goes to parties sometimes but-- but I’d know if she planned to be out-- “ Nala knew she had already said this, but just felt like she had to keep reminding them. “Please, just find her.”
Rajah took the pen and paper. “We will.” He spoke with confidence, his voice smooth, calming but firm. He looked between the two of them. “We’ll make sure she gets home.”
SIMBA (ft. Copper):
Simba still didn’t believe them. He stood stony and silent, knowing that if he opened his mouth he’d probably start berating the officers again--and that wasn’t going to get them anywhere. So, he bit his tongue, literally, so hard he felt it pop and tasted the blood in his mouth.
Copper nodded his head, reaching out a hand for both Nala, and then Simba to shake. Simba gripped it tightly, squeezing all his frustration into it. Copper did not blink, looked him dead in the eye.
“We’ll call as soon as we know anything,” Copper promised.
Simba did not believe him but he inclined his head and then opened the door for them. As soon as it shut behind them, he was off, pacing the floor again--feeling the worry tripping over itself in his chest with its bigness and its loudness.
“I’ve--I’ve gotta--do something. Nala--I’ve got to--” Tears gathered in his eyes and his hands clenched so tightly that he felt the sharp sting of his nails biting into his palms. “I’ve gotta go--look for her. O-or something.”
NALA:
Part of her-- it was a small part-- wanted to cling to him and say no. Stay with me. She wanted him here if only so she could bounce her worries and fears off him. They could take turns doing that. Nala could curse and cry and blame herself, and Simba could hold her steady again. Then it would be Nala’s turn--
It was Nala’s turn now.
But more eyes on the streets. That was the point. She shouldn’t keep him cooped up here with her, even though she knew this was the place where she should be, where she was required to stay. She wanted to be on the streets too. She’d race block to block and go down every alleyway. But this was Kiara’s home-- this is where she should turn up, if she was going to. So Nala had to stay put.
She wanted so badly to ask him to stay, but that wasn’t smart and it wasn’t right.
“You can go,” she told him. She clenched her jaw and fought against her third wave of tears of the night. “It--it’s okay, I’ll stay here for her and you can go.”
SIMBA:
Simba’s heart was torn. One part of it was already down the hall, running towards the doors, ready to scour every inch of Swynlake until he found Kiara. The other half was cozying right up to Nala, wanted to wrap her up in a hug and not let go until Kiara was back in their sights.
Both options were good options.
Both options were right.
He took a step towards the door. Turned back and walked towards Nala. Coming to a stop in front of her, he hesitated for a second--just a brief flash of uncertainty if he was welcome--and then he pushed through it and reached his arms around Nala, pulling her tight to his chest. Closing his own eyes, he tried to calm the racing of his heart.
“I’ll be back,” Simba reassured her. Hopefully, he’d return triumphant, with Kiara in tow. He wasn’t certain though, and that made him just want to stay right there in that apartment and pretend time wasn’t moving forward.
The whole world stopping and waiting and holding its breath for Kiara.
It started with the breakfast she suddeny couldn’t stand. A meal that she had had every other day for the last two years at least was suddenly harshly rejected and delivered to her toilet. And then the coffee betrayed her. In a short time span, something that she had come to greatly enjoy was wasted on her. Which couldn’t have come at a worse time.
Shego had never felt so damn exhausted. It had taken her far longer than normal to get what she needed to get done during the day. And then she had an unpleasant thought that wouldn’t really go away until she went to the store and ended up buying several pregnancy tests. One couldn’t be trusted. She had to try a few, just in case one did a false positive or some shit.
Did they give false positives?
Either way, it had ended with the disturbing notion that she of all people was pregnant. It was as if the world decided to play some sick joke. Shego? A mom? There was no way that would go down well. After all, she wasn’t in a good position to do that. She didn’t actually have a proper career. How could she carry a child and justify that? She didn’t have a real right to a child like this. But did she really think she could justify getting rid of it, in the same breath?
Even more to the point, how could she carry a child when she didn’t immediately know who the fucking father was? The potential fathers were…well in some cases alarming. She went through the people she had slept with: Howl, Lock, Terence, Copper, Milo…there was only one of those men that she thought could be someone she would be happy to have a child with.
And it turned out it was the cop’s child. Never had she been more frustrated than in that moment. She was going to carry a mysoginist’s child because she couldn’t let herself be responsible for destroying something innocent. How much so was debatable, but Shego was unable to do it. And it forced her to make her way back to Copper Russell’s home, dressed in grey sweatpants and a red hoodie, and her hair was just barely brushed through to be presentable.
There was a certain paleness to her face, and it took her a good ten minutes before she finally gave in and knocked on the door and then also rang the doorbell. She couldn’t be patient with this. She had mentally prepared herself, she had gone to uncomfortable lengths to find out the biological father of her child, and here she was, on Copper’s doorstep waiting to be let in so she could drop this bomb on him and quickly retreat so she could cuss him out in peace.
God damn it. Was she going to be doomed to a life where she was fake into this man and having a family with him?
Nerves pulsed through her veins as she walked through the doors. Her feet guided her here, though she was still groggy from the night before not having a great sleep in a bed that wasn’t her own. Judy was ready, though. She was ready to be a real officer and to make a difference in the world. Swynlake was the place for her, she could feel it. In her short time here people had already been unbelievably kind to her and she felt confident in the fact it was a sign to her future.
She walked through the reception area of the office, moving to a door that read Sheriff Copper. A smile beamed from her face as she looked at it. Judy was an officer, she had the training and experience, and she was top of her class. Someone wanted her, someone who wasn’t the magicks who used her as a token of feigned equality. Judy was useful here. Or so she hoped, she wasn’t entirely sure yet.
Lifting up her hand she hesitated for a few seconds before knocking on the door once, then twice to ensure that she would be heard. Shifting foot to foot outside, nearly shaking with nerves and excitement Judy waited.
She would make a difference here in Swynlake, she would. Her mantra beat in her head with every pulse of her heart. Judy was hopeful, a bright spirit ready for her dreams to come true in this new town. Ready for Copper to open the door and welcome his newest cop to the force.
It had taken so much time to get to this point, where she was sure that she could have Copper be putty in her arms. Shego had been vulnerable, and sweet, and she had kissed him on a ferris wheel of all cliches. At least he was a good kisser. She could allow her alter ego to get really excited about meeting him again and so on. Good grief. The sooner she got him into her bed, the better. Or preferably, herself into his.
But tonight was the one she was going to snag the guy. She had made sure that it wasn’t his later shift. Shego had checked, as she couldn’t let something like his job get in her way when she needed to add that last thing to make him want her more than anyone else. She would use him perfectly, have him be the great defense against the PI. He wouldn’t believe Perry if he were too addicted to her, if he were practically in love with her.
Shego could do it. And to suit the evening, she made sure she dressed in her finest. She put on black lace underwear and a bra, and then topped it off with a skin tight red dress that clung to every curve of her body. She added her best black high heels, and made sure her hair was the smoothest it had ever been before she made her way toward Copper’s place. She knocked on the door a couple times, plastering on a smile as the door opened.
“Hi. I know this is really out of the blue, and I’m sorry. I just...I really wanted to see you. Hope that’s okay?”
