#evanmccone

[finalslay]

@evanmcconne sent : [ 3PM ] a city sidewalk gloomy with mist & countless puddles.

she pulled the jacket tighter around her. not that it had done her any real good against the misty rain. it was the annoying kind of damp that nothing did much to help with, a nuisance that felt unavoidable, regardless of what one did to try and prevent it. but still, the red material she wore was better than nothing.

her curls have also frizzed ever-so-slightly, a fact that she would have been annoyed about under other circumstances. right now though, the state of her hair was the last thing on nancy’s mind. fingers twitched against the pen and notepad kept safely inside of her jacket pocket. today, there are more important things to worry about.

boots splash against the wet sidewalk as she pursued her target. this lead is one that she has been chipping away for a long time, digging and connecting the dots oh-so-slowly. hell, even once she was near sure of her suspicion, it felt daunting. a part of her worried that she was wrong ; the other part of her feels that there is no way that she could be.

it’s a risk she’s willing to take.

finally, after breaking into a slight jog — slippery sidewalk be damned — nancy closed the gap between them. “ can i have a minute of your time? ” she called out, sighing softly in relief when he finally turned towards her.

had he ever been aware of her pursuit beforehand? it’s doubtful. nancy has a tendency to fly under the radar, a fact that has helped her many times.

“ i’m a journalist, ” she began, a polite smile on her lips, “ and i’d be just thrilled to get an interview. ” the pen and paper are now withdrawn from her pocket. “ it won’t take long at all. ”

nancy knows he’ll refuse the proposition. she expected it — plus, it isn’t what she’s here for at all.

no, this is her little test : to see if there’s any semblance of recognition before laying all of her cards out on the table.

[gentlemandetective]

@evanmcconne ;

He had taken his eyes off of her for a few minutes — but that was all it took. Alexandria the Great, as her papa called her, was quite the accomplished tree - climber. Even all of her expertise, though, could not have prepared her for the fracture in her favorite big branch and the hard tumble to the ground.

The five - year - old's squeals only subsided when she was allowed back in her daddy's lap hours later. She sniffled through picking the color of her cast ( blue ), demanded that Evan be the first to sign her ' crooked ' arm, and snuggled into his torso while Benoit's voice played out of the phone she usually liked stealing to watch Bluey on.

It ain't your fault, darl'. She's a tough girl ... shit, you're both gonna be just fine.

Alexandria nodded sagely when Evan explained that Benoit was going to get on a plane, as if the big metal birds that carried people in their bellies across the sky were very reasonable things to travel in. Her hand remained on Evan's arm on the way home, seeking perhaps to also comfort her daddy. It was almost dark when they pulled in to their driveway. The child was obviously tired, but she walked toward the tree ( her Tree ) first. Alexandria's slippers nudged at part of the branch she fell from, and she sniffed.

After a moment of contemplation, Alexandria looked up at Evan. Her big brown eyes were still watery, and she kept her injured arm close to her chest. Then, she spoke, soft and slow — every word reinforcing why her papa insisted their kind - hearted girl really was the best of them.

❝It was ... accident, Daddy,❞ Alexandria murmured. ❝Tree didn't mean to hurt me, and I — I didn't mean to hurt Tree. Will Tree ... be okay ? Does Tree need blue, too ? Daddy, you make it — you can make anything.❞

[fiyecrow]

@evanmcconne asked:

The makeshift hood was pulled off Fiyero's head without finesse; it messed up his otherwise perfect hair and blinded the younger man for a second, who needed a minute to realize that his savior was none other than Evan McCone. The hunter's masked face was difficult to read - but he eventually pulled his shades out and removed the protective cover, making himself fully known to the Network heir. Killian's oldest - and with a penchant for trouble, it seemed. If it had been anyone else, Evan was pretty sure he wouldn't have been there (and the seven guys outside would be alive). The really interesting thing about it all? It hadn't been Killian who called his lapdog - but his first wife, tearful and scared over the phone talking about Fiyero being missing and sharing his biodata and location. "Hands," Evan said, motioning for Fiyero to raise his bound wrists. The hunter cut the rope with a single, precise cut from his iconic blade ('DESTINY'), pocketing it shortly afterwards and crossing both arms over his broad chest, staring long and hard at the other man before saying anything. "What the hell happened here?" brows furrowed, Evan's voice sounding serious and unamused, "Your mother called me instead of the NCG - I assume there is an explanation."

After the moments it took for Fiyero's eyes to adjust, he quickly realized that he wished he'd never tried to look around him. Despite the fact his life is paid for by the programs his father puts on like the Running Man, he'd never really had the stomach for violence.

And the absolute carnage surrounding them made his stomach churn.

It took him several beats too long to realize what McCone had instructed him to move, and even then, his movements were sluggish as he raised his wrists to be freed.

"How in the hell am I supposed to know? Do you think they told me every detail of their plan while the nabbed me?" the heir scoffed, though, the venom he'd intended didn't quite drip from his words. "I have no idea, alright? I was leaving my apartment to go to my mother's when suddenly I had a knife to my throat."

His gaze fell to his lap, praying it was enough to keep the bodies from his sight as he rubbed his wrists from where the rope dug into.

"Thank you... though. For... for saving me."

[gentlemandetective]

@evanmcconne ;

Also! 👫, please?

One of the first dogs that Evan brought into their home was a thin and dirty red and white dog that resembled an American Cocker Spaniel. She was promptly named Lady, after Disney's Lady and the Tramp. Evan swore, like the two strays before her, that he would find her a good family. However, Benoit took a liking to Lady. He took her for regular grooming, bought her bows for her collar, and purchased a tag that declared them to be her owner. Lady is often credited by Evan as the dog who won over Benoit, as he was far more open to the idea of her having distinguished friends ( so he called them ) after her arrival. The pampered girl passed away at fourteen and is memorialized in framed pictures across the house.

Caroline is, by far, Benoit's closest friend. He will forever be first in line to purchase tickets to her shows and is always upset when she does not allow him to pay. Evan's sister makes sure that her favorite couple is treated extravagantly at each of her venues with no cost to them. It falls to Evan to affectionately un - ruffle Benoit's feathers and tell him that he can cover Caroline's dinner and drinks after she is off the stage.

Benoit's birthday is a sore subject for the detective, which is a matter that Evan stumbled into with good intentions. It is something that he has respected ever since he was told, though, and there is very little fuss placed on the day beyond the greater holiday. The most Benoit will allow is a small date. Evan's favorite is wintery walks through colored light shows ; they allow him to give Benoit a kiss at the end for his birthday as his gift. Quiet, sweet, and respectful.

Whenever their home was finally finished, Evan picked Benoit up and carried the detective bridal - style across the threshold. Benoit laughed so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks.

The few suits that Evan has in his closet were all hand - picked by Benoit. When they attend a formal event, Benoit selects the best outfit for Evan ( that usually matches his own ), lays out Evan's accessories, and ties his tie or bow smartly. It is not that Evan can't dress himself — Benoit simply finds it tremendous fun.

[gentlemandetective]

@evanmcconne ;

" you know why i opened that door... "

Benoit laughed, though the sound was weak. A hand moved back through his shaggy hair. The detective grimaced at a shrill beep from the terrible machine close to his bed.

❝Are we really that attached, hon ?❞ he teased, fingers falling heavily back against his blankets. The ones entwined with Evan's on top of the bed squeezed. ❝You holler, I don't come ... so you phone up an ambulance ?❞

Of course, he knew there was more to the story. Evan likely expected to come home to the detective triumphant after his latest case, eager to tell his husband about all of it ( while holding a good glass of wine ). Instead, the handyman was forced to kick in the door of the bathroom when Benoit was obviously present but failed to respond behind the locked wood. There he had found the detective — in his suit and coat, muddy hiking boots off, and a pool of blood surrounding his mangled left ankle.

❝A bear trap,❞ Benoit groaned, looking up at the ceiling. He was finally beginning to recover from being put under for his surgery ; as such, he could return to his dramatics. ❝Who uses god - damn bear traps in 2024 ? You know, when I stepped in it, I knew it was bad ... but wouldn't that have been something ? to spoil my own fantastic reveal of the killer with medics in the background. I stuck it out, managed the whole thing — yeah, it hurt like the dickens driving outta there. I kept my pride, though. There ain't a thing in this world that can best Benoit Blanc.❞

( except, of course, for the great dizzying release that came with removing the pressure from those deep puncture wounds. that was when the red all came up and he fell back, hitting his head on the sink. heavens to betsy, that still stung. )

❝You're my knight, aren't ya, darl' ? knight in shining armor ?❞ Benoit turned his head. His eyes were covered with a film, and there were dark, pained circles beneath them.