Brian Gamble

Just a guy tryin to make my way in the world. There's only one rule, no one owns me - except the LAPD and booze.

[corinnebaileyrp]

Inspired from this (x)

It wasn’t so much in words but in actions. So of course she knew. He wasn’t the kind of man to stick around after the obligation ended, not unless he wanted to. Of all the things she’d been certain she knew about him it was that. They’d been friends for years before anything changed. It took a hostage situation to get them there.

Not that they hadn’t begun flirting somewhere along the way. Though it was never clear if either of them meant it or it was more of a challenge because that was them in a nutshell.

Would she ask him why now? No.

Maybe things weren’t said out loud until the time was right.

You know that I love you.

“I do.” Her answer was muffled slightly because the moment he’d opened his arms, she’d curled into him, nestling against his shoulder, pressing her face into his neck, arms going around him. Whatever had woken him from sleep had shaken him so much he’d gotten out of bed to find solace with a glass of whiskey.

She did know.

Looking back she wouldn’t have been able to say when she knew, only that she did.

Corinne picked up her head, her hand moving from his neck to trace a tender line down his check. “You know I love you, right?”

Maybe they didn’t tell each other with so many words,

Had she ever wondered if he’d stayed because he’d been asked to? In the beginning of course she had. Had he asked her if she loved someone else? Only once.

Had all of it changed at some point? Years ago. They’d just never said it out loud.

“You know I need you just as much.” She said after a moment. “The two of us who work so hard to say we don’t need anyone.” The admission fell easily from her lips now that they’d said the other words. “I wasn’t supposed to let anyone get close. Yet I couldn’t seem to help it with you.”

Had she ever needed to hear it? Not until that moment when she realized she did.

How long had she known she loved him? She couldn’t have named a defining moment, only that she was certain she did.

It hadn’t ever been that way with them, the need for words. It had been there though all along, so clearly expressed in actions.

@therealgamble

~ thank you for your patience while we found the right words. Though as evidenced by the time it took to get to this place, the right words are always worth the wait. ❤️

[therealgamble]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity ! ☆

[therealgamble]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity ! ☆

[therealgamble]

Hope you have a great Monday and rest of your week! 💜

[inbetweenbuns-blog]

[therealgamble]

He picks up both sandwiches and moves towards the couch, still eating his half on the way. There's something just so perfect about the sandwich she's made, or maybe he's just really tired and any fuel would be perfect in this moment.

"Are the pancakes mini or the chocolate chips?" He asks with half a laugh, pretty sure he already knows the answer. "Either way, I'd be in. Although one time Sanchez's mom made us all pancakes that had a Hershey Kiss right in the center of them. It kinda half melted all over them." Yep, he was definitely tired if he was telling random food stories.

"Bacon is good." He paused and finished off the sandwich. "I could totally go for a cheeseburger."

[brooklynislandgirl]

Beth settles on the far end of the couch, giving Brian the lion's share of it, including the lounger portion of the sectional where he can stretch out his legs. She nestles into the pillows that add a splash of colour, and drags one of the throw blankets across her legs. "I mean I was considering itty-bitty pancakes with regular chips in them but now I am considering big ones with tons of tiny chips. And why stop there. Maybe...put in crushed potato-chips too. And the kisses are totally in. Regular chocolate or the swirled ones that are kind of cookies-and-cream?" Toes peek out from the blanket and nudge the remote toward him so he can choose something to watch, or one of the multitude of music channels. "Okay. Pancakes and cheeseburgers with bacon. Maybe fried egg on it too. Hashbrowns instead of fries. In fact, I think you're lucky I don't put you on it, because now I'm starving." She takes a big bite of her sandwich half to make her point.

[therealgamble]

"Ok, why do you always have to take it to something nasty?" He teases her, taking the remote and flipping through the guide. "White chocolate is not chocolate and belongs in the trash. And I'm not sure about the potato chis, but I'd give it a go." He settles on reruns of NCIS, and then turns so that he can get just his feet under the edge of her blanket.

"And don't you dare put any egg on anything you expect me to eat." He makes a face, sticking his tongue out like he's going to be sick, but then laughs and takes another bite of the sandwich. There are only a few things Brian refuses to eat and egg is one of them. "Absolutely ruins the chesseburger, if we're doing loco moco I want mine sans chicken fetus. But extra gravy."

His stomach growls loudly and he finishes off the sandwich. "And now I want a loco moco and a spam musubi."

[therealgamble]

"A-fucking-men, sister." He replied with a soft laugh. Of course she was right, he did enjoy letting Andy cook for him, why not? But his comment was directed at the absolute truth that sometimes a bit of junk food is all you really want. And right now, the smell coming from the bag was making his mouth water.

He took another sip of coffee though, letting it warm him from the inside out. The caffeine was genuinely appreciated - it was a very nice gesture. And it had been an incredibly long day. He set the cup down and started rifling through the food containers.

"Wait - who has you playing fetch? Don't they know you're way to valuable for that crap? Need me to come kick some ass?" His outrage was real. He didn't know a lot about her world, but he knew she was some kind of badass. And she was his friend. People didn't fuck with his friends.

[morgansmornings]

She chuckled  more to herself at the thought. Brian was a force when he wanted to be, which was both amazing and terrifying. But the long the two had gotten to know the other, the more she understood that he was a good man despite the armor of sarcasm and snark. She moved to pull her own dinner together, the salad being mixed while she leaned far away from his own food. She had a near accident when she went to grab his to go order and wasn’t looking for a repeat. Not keen on going to the hospital after a shitty day. 

“My boss. The D.A. Said I had to ‘be more cooperative with the others’ at the office.” Though her smile was just as false and bitter as anyone who had ever worked retail. The one that said “sure, but you can kiss my ass while I’m at it’ without saying a word otherwise. “I swear to God, one of these days I am going to quit and then the city will be down one of the best Lawyers in Criminal Justice.”  

She just wanted to be done with the day. To change into as little clothing as she could get away with and sleep for a week straight. She needed a distraction. And Brian had so helpfully given her one. 

“Hold up, go back a minute. A finger? Like a person’s random finger? How are you so calm about that? Tell me everything.”

[therealgamble]

"More cooperative?" Brian asked as he picked up a taco and took a bite. He shook his head as he chewed. "Play along and be a good girl." He knew that line, he'd been told it before too. Didn't mean he paid any attention to it.

The food was good and he could feel it bringing back some energy. He finished a taco and starting on another quickly, then took a huge sip of hot coffee to wash it down.

"An actual finger." He confirmed with a grin. "I thought you were familiar with crackheads." He was warming up to the conversation now, and excited to tell the insane story. "This guy was walking around an industrial district, no idea why since there's generally no food or shelter there, and somehow found a person's finger." He took another bite of his food, completely unphased by what he was saying. "He thought he could trade it for a hit. I swear to God, that's what he told me." He laughed, still unbelieving of the tale.

"It's the detectives' problem now. And probably yours, at some point."

[shipwreckedinsc]

Bridges

[therealgamble]

He thought about it for a moment, then pulled his phone out of his pocket, typing for a moment before looking back up at her. "Yes and no. My prom was before Clueless was released, but I didn't go to it." He gave her a grin.

"And I think the hot song that year was actually something by Whitney Houston." He gave a shrug. Pop wasn't really his type of thing, but somehow he remembered a lot of warbling. "So, I'm only like at the hill, not quite over it."

He gave a slight stretch, "They have a fantasy football team? I might have to hang out more often. I'd say I could get them to buy me drinks, but that would infer payment and well, we already know that doesn't happen."

[tabbyrp]

“It was noble of you to skip prom.” The small, sage nod she added gave the statement a certain false gravitas. “Give the other guys a proper shot at prom king. Very generous.” Tabby didn’t push for more, didn’t needle about why he hadn’t gone. There’d been rough patches in Brian’s early life. Losses and ghosts tangled up in old memories. With prom, she figured if he wanted to share, he would. And if not, well… not everything needed to be turned into a punchline.

She leaned back against the bar, stretching her arms behind her with a little hum of amusement to keep the mood light. A twitch of a wider smile followed, because the image of Brian wedged into one of the creaky corner booths with a bunch of opinionated retirees and midlife-crisis hobbyists was kind of spectacular. The lot of them arguing over player stats they’d half-remembered from the news crawl, while Brian sat there trying to wrangle free drinks from it all.

“Though, I gotta warn you.” Tabby tapped her fingers thoughtfully against the edge of the counter. “They pick their lineups based on vibes and which players have the best facial hair. I watched a guy drop his QB last year because he didn’t like his touchdown dance.”

A wrinkle of her nose signaled she wasn’t quite done with the subject and definitely might even be plotting. “However. If you managed to trick them all into a fake betting pool that you actually diverted to me to clear their outstanding tabs, I will absolutely provide you with all the pro-bono beer you can handle. And not just because…”

The pause that followed was dramatic. Just long enough to be suspicious, before Tabby cleared her throat and channeled her best Houston.

“Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii… will always love youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.”

[therealgamble]

"Ok, this is how I know you don't gamble at all." Brian replied with a laugh. "I know a guy who picks racehorses based on how big they pee prior to getting into the gates. I have no idea how he gets this information and honestly, I don't want to know." He picked up his drink and took a sip.

"Yep, that was it!" He couldn't help but laugh at her belting it out in the nearly empty bar. The fact that the few patrons didn't even blink made it ten times funnier.

But then he felt the need to get back to the business at hand. "Ok, we can do this. I'm thinking we start a weekly pool. We can collect $25 per player and set the payouts so that the house gets a generous cut. If you get ten people playing that's $250 a week. Even if the house only keeps $50 that goes a long way towards paying the tabs off." His mind is working, calculating bar patrons and payouts.

"It would give you more Sunday drinkers too. And Thursday nights."

[therealgamble]

He sees the relief on her face and for a moment it pisses him off. What was she expecting him to do? What the hell was she thinking? Did she actually expect he'd have died but she did it anyway? His face grows hard, but then she starts to speak.

And then he goes cold. Numb. "They triggered it?" The word is full of disgust, fear, and anger. They could have killed him at any moment? Someone had a finger on the button? He wasn't an idiot, he knew his job was dangerous, and he knew that the agency could decide to have him taken out at any moment. But deep down he knew he'd fight, and he could fight. Likely, he'd kill anyone they sent after him. But they knew that. They counted on that. So they'd stacked the deck. And that really pissed him off.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Even as he said it he knew the answer. She couldn't. Not safely. It didn't make it better though.

He went quiet again, mind racing through scenarios, others who'd been killed, how many of them were taken out that way? And what were they going to do now? Where could they run to? He was taking a mental inventory of their weapons, safe houses, friends, any assets he could think of that weren't tied to it all. There wasn't much.

His eyes finally focused and he let out a soft sigh, eyes locking on to hers. "Do you have a plan?"

[brooklynislandgirl]

Watching the emotions play out across his face, she doesn't blame him at all. If anything, she would have reacted in worse ways had the situation been reversed. All the while as he processes, she twists her fingers together even though she isn't normally fidgety. When he finally speaks...Beth can only nod. That whirlwind of fire in him is not dissimilar to the feelings of disgust, contempt, abject fear that she felt when she discovered the nature behind Control's austere and pristine veneer. What sticks in her craw is that they had spent so long convincing the world that people with extra-ordinary abilities were dangerous. That they, if left unchecked, were going to run rampant and destroy humanity. But Beth knows in her heart that most of her kind, left to their own devices, just wanted to get on with life. Get by like everyone else. Now she has proof. Brian can see it too. "Yeah." When his tone accuses her it lacks bite and she shakes her head. "We both know why." Her shoulders sag and for a moment, Beth looks so much smaller than she actually is. Vulnerable in a way she tries hard to hold inside because weakness in any fashion is a liability. "I mean, short of digging that out of you...not really. We could try and get off grid but I know they have blood-hounds, people like me who can track. I...I don't want to hurt anyone else but...." A sigh like a Pacific storm. "I'm...I'm sorry that...you could have... We're really fucked here, aren't we?"

[therealgamble]

And then he laughs, a deep belly laugh at the insanity of it all. He knew she could be impulsive at times but this one took the cake. No plan other than just getting the thing out of him. He can't help himself, it's been ingrained in him since basic training to laugh at the dark irony of life.

Her face is so innocent, vulnerable, and possibly even surprised at what she's done. That makes him laugh more.

It takes a moment for it to pass, he wipes tears from his eyes and lets out a ragged breath. "Yes, we are well and truly fucked. But I guess at least they won't be blowing my head off anytime soon." Finding the silver lining in the absurd was usually her job.

"Lets get out of here now then. Grab what you can. Leave everything with a computer chip or electricity." It's not that hard to switch into work mode. It's how he deals with the emotion, no need to feel when you have plans to make, things to do.

A hand rubs against the spot again, a small shiver of disgust that he can't control.

[joshwool]

[therealgamble]

[ laugh ] for your muse to laugh at something mine did

When cops start drinking, they start telling stories. And not just any stories - they always either have to be disgusting, making fun of someone in the room, or a combination of the two.

Brian and Jim were no different. And when there were women around, they absolutely tried to slay each other's reputations.

Jim's flavor of the month was sitting directly across from Brian, and she seemed to be a special kind of woman, the kind who thought image was everything.

"So, Tiffany…" Brian had just finished his 3rd drink and was ready to start trying to end this date. "Has Jimbo ever told you about his love for gas station burritos?"

Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Brian." Tabby laughed, leaning in against his side and smacking his arm playfully. "She does NOT want to hear that story."

"I think she does." He grinned at his wife, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

The woman seemed semi-amused, but wary of whatever they were talking about.

"No, no, no." Jim countered, "I think she wants to hear about the time you bruised your junk."

"That did not happen." Brian laughed loudly.

"Babe!" Tabby could hardly choke out the word, "That definitely happened. I remember this one!" She had actual tears in her eyes from laughing.

"How do you remember it? It was before I met you." Brian replied with an incredulous look on his face.

"So it DID happen." Tabby laughed gleefully. "TELL US, JIM!" She was enjoying seeing the tables get turned on Brian for once.

"It was actually one of our first days on patrol together." Jim took a sip from his beer. "We got a call out for a domestic and we went code 3 and hauled ass over to it."

"Code 3 is lights and siren on", Tabby translated helpfully for Tiffany, who nodded her thanks.

"One of the first things I learned is that your seatbelt should be off as soon as you get to the scene. Because you don't want to have to pause and possibly get stuck in your car if someone's shooting." Jim grinned in Brian's direction. "Ranger boy here forgot to unbuckle and tried to leave the car at about mach 10." The laughing started before he'd finished his sentence.

Tabby was freely crying with laughter, but tried to pat his arm in a sympathetic manner. "Did it actually leave a bruise?"

Brian scrunched his face slightly, but let out a laugh. "Yes. Roughly the shape and size of the seatbelt buckle. I got a lot of sympathy for it." He grinned.

Tiffany looked at each of them in turn, possibly trying to decide if she should walk out now or try to escape through a bathroom window.

[therealgamble]

[ confess ]  for my muse  to  confess  their  feelings  to  your  muse

He sat in the dark, a glass of whiskey in his hand, the hand shaking slightly as he lifted it to his lips. The dream had been so vivid he was having trouble shaking it. He blinked furiously as he felt the tears forming. It had been far too real.

"You ok?" She asked quietly from the doorway.

Maybe he was too tired to get his mask back in place, the smirk that said nothing could touch him, the banter that said he would never break. Maybe the first glass of whiskey was already taking effect. Either way, for once he was honest.

"No." Almost a whisper before he took another sip.

She knew him too well - she didn't move towards him even though she wanted to hold him in her arms and say it would all be ok. She knew that would end the moment before it started.

"Bad dream?" She asked simply. "Want to tell me?"

"No." He shook his head as one tear slid slowly down his cheek. He made no move to wipe it away.

"You know I don't just care about you because I was asked to?" He asked, draining the glass and setting it down. "It started that way. It was just a job." He shrugged, figuring she already knew. "But then we became friends. I looked forward to seeing you every day. And now…." He took a deep breath and let it out, desperately trying to shake the last vestiges of the dream away. "I need you around. You know that."

They'd found her, and they killed her right in front of him. Slowly. He could still hear the screams, see the blood.

He made a subtle motion, opening his arms and inviting her to join him. "You know that I love you."

[madkreator]

[therealgamble]

[therealgamble]

@morgansmornings from here

He stared directly into the dude's eyes until he turned away, a smirk on his lips. It was so satisfying watching him run for the hills, seriously, a huge lift to his day.

"As much as I would have loved to watch you do that", he laughed, pressing his cheek into her hand for just a moment as she stroked his face, "I'm glad I could scare him away for you."

He gave her his first genuine smile of the day, still feeling a bit of an adrenaline high from their play acting. "Oooh, score one for me. But you really don't have to make anything up to me. That was so worth it." The satisfaction was written all over his face.

"It was just the normal shit, you know? People going out of their way to be shit to us today. And we lost a domestic case. Pretty sure the guy will go back home and kill her." He let out a long breath. The law kept them from doing anything to help the woman. But he knew that she knew that better than anyone. And he knew she hated to lose just as much as he did.

He couldn't give in to that state of mind though. "So, how was your day? Other than being so amazing you draw in all the creepy dudes."

[corinnebaileyrp]

@therealgamble cont. from (x)

He gave a slight smile at her joking about a smaller opponent. Right then he really wished he'd made some different choices and hadn't ended up there.

You asked me why I was so nice. He'd forgotten about that, and he was brought back to wondering if she knew. He expected to be treated like a criminal, harshly and with little compassion. But if she didn't know, he wasn't exactly willing to clue her in. Why make her hate him? So he ignored it for the moment.

He watched her carefully as she revealed little pieces about herself, trying to gauge how true her words were, and feeling in the end like she was being pretty honest, even if she seemed to hide slightly behind her work.

"Oh, so you're like me then?" A slight laugh sounded in his words. Not following the rules had definitely gotten him into a lot of trouble. But he still had no plans of going arrow straight anytime soon. "I don't suppose I could convince you to go get me a cheeseburger? I swear, it's just what I need to heal." He was actually feeling really hungry even after spilling out his stomach on the floor.

That last bit made him stop joking though. She at least knew what was going on here. Maybe she was a source of information he could use. Maybe she was just compassionate and reckless enough.

"They want me for my shooting skills?" He asked, an eyebrow raised just slightly. "Are they government? Private? Foreign?" He tried to keep his voice even, like they were discussing the weather. She couldn't know how important her answers would actually be to him. "How well will they treat me if I agree?" That one was the clincher. Would he be a slave, or a prince?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, so you're like me then?

A brief smile flickered across her lips at his remark. “Not a rules follower then? I suppose we are alike in that regard, though I suspect perhaps our reasons for that might differ.” Not she knew or understood his reasons, it was more of a hunch based on what had brought him to this place and time. Her presence here was more punishment for standing up for her principles. She hid her thoughts behind her smile. Their time together was destined to be brief and she had a job to do.

“You could persuade me to get you something to eat if you’re feeling hungry. That desire at least a good sign. As for my professional recommendation of that being a cheeseburger, I might advise against it. Unless your goal is a repeat of before.” Sarah felt she at least owed him what honesty she could provide.

“I’m sure your shooting skills would be a plus.” He asked good questions, she’d give him that much. The jury was still out though on how she felt about him. Based on the file alone, she decided to keep an open mind. Sometimes there was more to a story than just the facts and in her experience, the reasons behind actions were often more enlightening than the actions themselves. “Government.” She said. “Though I’m surprised they didn’t tell you that.”

“How will they treat you, well if that’s not the million dollar question.” She murmured. “Unfortunately, that’s not one I have an easy answer to as once people leave my charge, I rarely, if ever see them again.” Her voice remained quiet. Really, what could she tell him that wouldn’t invite more questions she couldn’t answer.

“I’m assuming you’re here because you’ve got very limited options. So it’s more of a lessor of two bad choices perhaps is how you’re seeing it?” Sarah softened her features, she was after all here to do her job. “My role is to keep you alive and comfortable while you recover and your next step is up to you. You either choose the men I work for or your former co-workers who I suspect, based on seeing what’s unfolding on the new, aren’t too happy with you right now.”

“Now, you still want me to smuggle in a cheeseburger, or do you want to start with something a little lighter and see how that stays down?” The slight smile was back, her best beside manner one. It was up to him whether he trusted her to know her job.

[therealgamble]

Brian fell silent a moment, digesting everything she'd said. A government program. That explained some of the cheesiness of the guys that had talked to him. They definitely wanted his sniper skills, and probably appreciated how he'd put the whole extraction job together. Sure, he failed, but really, that wasn't completely his fault. The plan had been good. His choice of partners had been questionable. If he'd had better men he would have been unstoppable.

Limited options. Man she had that right. He was supposed to be dead. And everyone thinking he was dead was a great cover for these guys. He'd be completely unattributed. If anyone even thought they saw him they could laugh in their face and say he was dead. It also meant they could dispose of him anytime they wanted.

"You have no idea how much I want a cheeseburger." He gave a half grin, it was about all he could muster. "But I'll settle for whatever you think is best." He kept his voice light, not wanting to betray how bad he really felt or the fact that his mind was grinding through everything he'd learned so far.

"Can I see it? The news?" He asked quietly. He didn't know what all was being said about him, although he could guess. And since he was dead they wouldn't be pulling any punches.