WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
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Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Feb 14, 2023 19:58:11 GMT
For once it hadn’t been him.
Will planted his elbows on the edge of the desk and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck. He squeezed the rigid line of muscle, practically feeling the warmth of the old gilt frames in his palms. There was nothing slick or cold about the pieces, no sheen of glass to mask the thick texture of the oils laid heavy on the canvas by an old master. There was no tremor in his hands now either.
He dropped them to the desk, setting aside the photograph that had been offered up in proof of what had been taken. Hers – Mrs. Herschel’s – had fluttered like a bird’s wing as she’d patted the back of his hand. She’d pointed with a gnarled finger on her left, the joints knotted with the arthritis that had prevented her from chasing after the figure she’d seen scrambling from her bedroom window at 6am that morning. ’Please, bring me the album from the shelf there. I’ll show you … my father, so proud he was…’ While the crime scene unit had buzzed around in the background, photographing the damage left behind, the small wooden box that had been turned over to scatter the obviously costume jewellery across the floor, the splinters left behind by the lock that had been jimmied, he’d fetched the album for her and listened patiently as she explained.
Vermeer. Gifted to her father by the Mayor of their town for his work with children orphaned by the Great War. Two very small pieces really, but that was what had allowed them to keep them as the Nazis had invaded Holland and her father had finally been forced to send his wife and children away.
The man in the photo had stood proudly, the prodigious dark moustache that smothered his upper lip tipped up at the corners with his smile. He hadn’t done the work for any sort of payment, he had lost his own father in the war and at 17 when it had finished, he had been of an age to do something. Trying to do that again thirty years later had cost him his life, but his wife and their two daughters had survived, making their way to America to start a new life, the paintings and the handful of photographs all they had of that life there.
It had been a good life, one filled with joy, with a marriage that had lasted until her Marius had passed in his sleep after sixty years together. Those rheumy, pale blue eyes had twinkled with what Will imagined had attracted young Marius to the young Dutch girl, fixing on him as she asked if he was to spend the evening with his own wife. She’d seen the ring on his finger, hadn’t hesitated to ask. He’d hesitated to answer, hearing Zoey’s voice out in the hallway as she’d arrived, invited by the message he’d sent when he’d realised what had been taken. Mrs. Herschel hadn’t asked her the same question, but she’d seen his glance out towards the hallway and had patted his hand again before she’d asked him if he’d be so kind as to make the new arrivals some tea.
By the time they’d all filed out, evidence piled in the box he’d taken custody of for the moment, she’d looked exhausted, but had promised that she would be fine. Her grandson would be by to fix the window and she had nothing to worry about until then.
Settling back in his seat, Will frowned down at the report he’d half written on the computer. Mrs. Herschel’s story had been one that could’ve been written dozens of times over by those who had been forced to flee Europe, the sort that had stopped him from setting his career as a thief aside for the sake of his marriage. How many more had lost the small treasures that had been theirs? Too many. How many were now of an age where all they had was their memories of the good times they had been gifted with since? Too few. Loves lost, days like today a reminder of them all.
He'd felt the pang in his chest as he’d woken that morning. The radio had buzzed with love songs from the moment he’d flipped it on in the kitchen, leaving him scrambling to turn it off, wondering if that had been Lex’s doing. The ache was back in his chest as he dragged the box of evidence towards himself. His marriage ending hadn’t been Lex’s fault, that had been all his own and putting it back together, even partially, was on him. Will glanced down at his hands again, running his thumb along the line of his wedding ring. After Christmas, after the auction … the echo of the warmth of the bath, of Zoey curling against him again, the eagerness of her kisses, the feeling of something shifting as he’d finally made the promise to her that he should’ve done years ago … it felt like perhaps there was some way back. That all could’ve been wishful thinking though, a divorcé’s regrets threatening to swallow him all on what was purportedly the most romantic night of the year.
The station had already started to empty out, his partners, practically every other detective not working a second past the end of shift tonight. Except for him. A handful of patrol officers shuffled in and out of the place, the quiet beep of the locks releasing, the slap of doors drifting away until he was alone. Almost. The door from the station’s rear lot opened again, footsteps approaching, drawing his gaze up from the plastic baggies they’d scraped together from the shattered remains of Mrs. Herschel’s peace. Another box of evidence, plastic baggies sealed with tape. He half expected one of the techs to be dropping it on his desk and walking away, he should’ve known better.
Pushing to his feet, Will went to take the box from his ex-wife. He tilted his head, smiling wryly at her as he went to transfer it to his desk. ”You didn’t have to,” he murmured, setting it down atop the other, careful not to crush anything. ”I could’ve picked it up from the lab in the morning.” Turning back, he settled against the edge of his desk, his mouth settling back into that thin line. ”I know it probably isn’t the same guy you’ve been tracking, but … thanks for coming out. Especially today.” A day Zoey probably wanted to forget existed, those memories of mornings spent in bed with her, the tray set down on her lap as she woke, scattered with rose petals, coffee and pancakes giving way to celebrating the best thing in his life, the first and only woman he’d ever loved.
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
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Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Mar 12, 2023 19:52:56 GMT
 ━ nothing good is born from lies ━
She (somehow) managed to keep things completely professional at work. Her main focus was the old woman’s stolen artwork, and if she thought about Will sitting in the next room, talking to that old lady and calming her down… well, she wouldn’t be able to do her job properly. Clearly, that wasn’t an option.
Her art thief wasn’t usually so messy. Broken glass scattered everywhere, things upturned and tossed around with little care… no, that wasn’t him at all. The person she was looking for was clean, silent━knew how to get in and out of a place without being detected, security systems and all. Cat-like in every sense. She appreciated William’s heads-up anyway, and would stick with this case for as long as possible. It was, after all, her department, and an old painting pre-World War II. It just wasn’t one of the ones that’d been lost (air quotes heavily implied) during the war, and seemingly passed from rich guy to rich guy, with no record of it ever being in their possession.
The M.O. was far from the regular, but it wasn’t as if she had a boatload of plans on Valentine’s Day, either. Distracting herself with work was easier than sitting at home and going back and forth with herself about whether or not to reach out.
No, she couldn’t━that would be so stupid. Not to mention desperate.
It was better to convince herself that Will had a date tonight (maybe multiple) rather than think about how he said he loved her. She had to stop doing that to herself; she was so tired of it.
Once she handed him the evidence, she’d offer to stay for the evening and finish up. Take it off his hands. Sheriff Forbes wanted any and all federal agents to contribute if they were called to aid “her” detectives, so Zoey would happily oblige.
She turned and slipped into his office, desperate to keep her smile polite even as he grinned at her. It warmed something in the pit of her stomach, threatening to have a totally inappropriate, wide, toothy smile break out onto her lips. Zoey managed to temper it, especially as he gladly took her box. She almost didn’t let it go.
“It’s alright.” She managed, catching his in the morning. In her mind, that meant he didn’t plan to stay tonight and work on it. Clearly, she was right about him having plans.
“Thank you for the call,” Zoey nodded curtly, carefully swerving around his ‘especially today.’ What the hell was that supposed to mean? Just because it was some commercial holiday where people bought chocolates for one another did not mean she couldn’t last a few hours without thinking of him and every single Valentine’s they’d had together. She wasn’t thinking about how soft his lips always felt on hers (and how she was reminded of that not long ago), or his arms around her, or each day where it felt like her life was perfect, and how far she was from that now.
“I’m not ready to rule out the possibility just yet, and since I’ll have to help with the paperwork anyway, I thought I’d offer to stay and work on it this evening. That way, there won’t be so much work for you in the morning.” Her smile turned tight, strained, at the edges. She tried to remain as neutral as possible.
They were supposed to do it together, but it wasn’t impossible to continue separately. They could pick it back up collaboratively when it wasn’t Valentine’s Day, and ensure their work was seamless. Forbes would be none the wiser, and Zoey would save herself the heartache of another holiday that would never be the same.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE |  |
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WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
|
Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Apr 3, 2023 19:00:19 GMT
The rest of the town would’ve still been celebrating as he drove back home through it later. Couples strolling down the streets, hands joined, arms linked, caught up in their own small words, radiating with a love that wasn’t guaranteed to last. You didn’t think about that on Valentine’s day though. It was a time for romance, for hearts and romance and opening yourself up to something far bigger than you were alone. He’d already been trying for that when he’d walked into that bull pen and had laid eyes on a woman who had no time for a nepobaby whose mere existence seemed to be enough to earn him a spot as a detective in robbery-homicide, a spot most would’ve given their left arm for. What had been worth more in the end though? Righting the wrongs of a genocidal maniac or loving the most incredible woman he’d ever met?
Will had no intention of trying to figure it out tonight. There’d been enough of a weight hooked through his heart when he’d woken, more added by Mrs Herschel’s guileful words. He’d have wrapped up what he had here, working as late as possible – as necessary before he retreated to his apartment, shutting out the clamour for romance, carrying on working at his desk with a plate of something that didn’t have those ties to a marriage he’d brought to its knees before it had fallen apart complete. Bread and cheese, a bowl of gruel, something that wouldn’t make him ache with every bite the way so much else did. If he got really desperate there was always the vending machine – nothing said Valentine’s day like a ten year old bag of Goldfish crackers. Anything to avoid those little reminders that still had their barbs buried deep in his skin.
Hopefully Jill was doing what Addy would’ve done, getting Zoey out of the office, taking her mind off of the wreckage he’d left of what had been between the two of them. It would’ve been big headed and presumptuous to say to take her mind off of him, but after what had happened on the night of the auction, and in New York over Christmas, perhaps it wasn’t that far from the truth. The two of them were standing in the rubble now and God, he didn’t know where to step, how to stop another one from blowing up and finish the job he’d started through his blundering attempts to do something right.
Hie hopes were dashed at the quiet clip of approaching footsteps – even the rhythm of Zoey’s footsteps ingrained in him. Her smile was polite, just enough that those barbs caught again, almost wringing an apology out of him for … everything. It could’ve been so different, hundreds of miles from here – dinner, drinks, the rest of the night alone to reaffirm the love that had surpassed the bonds of marriage. All that they wouldn’t have tonight.
Was that a hesitation as he went to take the box? Will took the weight of it anyway, nudging aside his keyboard. Had her intention been just like his, using the case as a preoccupation on a night filled with ghosts of better days, of an unbroken marriage. He settled in against his desk, his arms folding over his chest – he couldn’t reach out and draw her in, no matter how much he wanted to pick up where they’d tentatively left things off the morning after the auction. ”It felt like the least I could do. I didn’t think it would connect, but there’s always a chance…” And he had been weak enough to want just the tiniest taste of her today. A masochist’s desire to feel that ache shoot through his chest the way it did now – lightning bolt sharp and almost as likely to kill him eventually.
Will’s chin dipped, his arms unfurling so he could prop his hands against the edge of the desk. Almost as strong a road block to reaching for her as his crossed arms had been and all the better for letting the tension melt out of his fingertips into the wood he was gripping onto hard. ”It seems as though Forbes is determined to keep everybody on board with her new initiative.” In the end the Feds would likely grind her into submission, but for now Zoey seemed determined to stick to the letter of the Sheriff’s law at least.
He puffed out a breath, just a hint of amusement edging it. Blue eyes rolled up to look at her guilelessly as he shrugged. ”I likely would’ve stayed as late as it took tonight – I’ve got nowhere else to be.” Zoey hadn’t asked, probably didn’t want to know, to even think about it, but it felt like it had needed saying all the same. ”I could do it alone if you did?” And no, he absolutely didn’t want to hear the answer to that question. Will swallowed hard, feeling the ache of a loss that hadn’t yet happened working its way through him. ”It seems as though everybody else does. My partners cleared out early.” Probably to places he didn’t want to think about. He rose slowly, drawing the chair on the other side of his desk out for Zoey. Perhaps he could’ve set her up on the peril’s desk, but that masochistic streak ran thick. ”Have you eaten?” he asked. Each question opened up another potential trap beneath his feet. Eventually he was sure he’d fall into one and would feel the snap of his heart as clearly as the crack of a broken bone.
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
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Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Apr 23, 2023 16:36:00 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
But God, she loved him.
Zoey wanted to know just as much as she didn’t. When he let it out, that smile she’d been keeping at bay finally chose its moment to break free. Zoey’s lips twisted into a grin, and then her eyes flicked down and away, one hand coming up to brush her hair away from her face━something to try and hide her expression. She almost wanted to lie and say she did have somewhere to be, but she’d sort of already given that up. “No. I don’t mind staying.” Getting the work done was important to her, but she wanted to spend time with him tonight, too.
“Yeah,” She laughed, “Jill practically ran out of here, talking about her hot date.” And not-so-subtly pushing Zoey towards Will’s office. That meant they were alone; the precinct would be practically empty tonight. Everyone else was off on their dates, with only this ex-married couple and their confusing, exhausting, relationship. If you could even call it that.
Dinner and work. How romantic. Unfortunately, it felt like a lot of their nights when they were married, which somehow (strangely) made it all the more intimate. It took effort to spend time together and ensure their work got done and they felt loved by the other person… and this could’ve been any one of those nights.
Or maybe the nights in the beginning, where they were the only two left in the precinct, and Zoey was amazed that the prissy, rich boy put in any real work.
She knew better now than she did back then, though.
But she hadn’t loved him then as she did now.
“No, I still have my lunch in the fridge that I didn’t get around to eating. And don’t tell me you just so happen to have a three-course meal with you.” Zoey lowered herself into the chair he’d pulled out, then looked up at Will with a small grin and a quirked brow. “If you did, I’m going to think you planned to have some sort of hot, precinct date.” Her gut swam with the notion, again, that perhaps it wasn’t all for her━if it even existed. And it rolled and twisted, thinking that it was and the connotations put on that. But that was silly. She was sure it was nothing like that; maybe just the scraps from a large lunch. And, honestly, that would be better than her old sandwich. Will’s cooking was a thing of beauty━even when reheated.
Zoey helped herself to the file on his desk, double-checking the name first, and then taking out the most important papers and laying them in the space between her side and his. “Let’s start going through the box of evidence and comparing it to my more recent theft cases.” Zoey slipped her bag off and set it on the floor beside his desk, then bent to retrieve another folder just as her stomach growled, clearly telling her what the more important task was right now.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE | |
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WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
|
Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Apr 29, 2023 20:14:37 GMT
Would it have been selfish to tell her that she didn’t have to stay on his account – that shielding of the part of him left raw and vulnerable by those tentative steps towards something less awkward and painful between them – or to allow himself to feel some hope that she would? That was a masochist’s hope, the vain desperation not to hear that someone else was stepping into the space he’d once occupied. Either way, Will imagined that the ache would settle back in when Zoey walked out of his office, in a moment or in an hour or two, when the evidence on the desk was shuffled through and it became obvious that this wasn’t the thief the FBI had been searching for.
He might not have been able to read her as easily as he’d once been able to, but he was sure that the smile that came his way when he’d sworn first that there was nowhere else he had to be carried some relief. Will watched her brush her hair back from her face, offered up a polite smile back that didn’t reflect the well of relief that opened up in his own gut. Sequestered away in Mystic Falls he hadn’t been tormented by the reports of how his ex-wife had moved on, whispers not half as quiet as they should’ve been rippling around the department like it was any of their business. Running meant he hadn’t had to hear it, but how many of his own supposed ‘rebounds’ had ended up splashed on the society pages, barbarous little reminders for the woman who hadn’t deserved the heartbreak he’d caused.
Amusement rumbled in Will’s throat as Zoey laughed. He dipped his chin, that smile brightening around the sound. Of course Jill had plans for tonight. She’d undoubtedly dropped a thousand hints about Zoey making some, those nudges starting days out. ”I imagine you’ll get all the details tomorrow. It’ll make the morning entertaining at least.” Perhaps driving the blade in eventually, talk of a happy night full of love and romance twisting it in a gut that had been left hollowed out by the loss of those things. He imagined he’d get the same, that gleeful look in his partners’ eyes as they pushed for details they weren’t going to get in return.
Glancing at the peril’s desk, he wondered if they’d anticipated this, the little gift of listening devices or cameras left behind as if they would unlock the mysteries of their partner’s love life with a glimpse of what happened when they cleared out for the night. His torment over the echoes of a past he’d torn to pieces when he hadn’t been able to give Zoey a glimpse of the part of his life he was hiding from her too wasn’t for public viewing. Neither was Zoey’s broken heart.
The vending machines at their old station had provided most of their dinners back then, the pizza joint around the corner from the station a welcome break from stale chips and the candy bars that had probably been there when Reagan had become the 40th president. As he’d managed to drag himself up one step at a time in Zoey’s estimation it had become part of a courtship ritual she’d fought against at first to bring her food. A gourmet detective’s mating ritual becoming one of the pillars around which their marriage had been built.
Laughter rolled quickly from him, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he settled back into his seat. It was a love tap he would take. ”There’s no beef rib,” he said, clucking his tongue in a quick lament. ”Likely nothing else left of what I left in here either.” His lips pressed together, curling up at the corners as he rolled away from his desk towards the mini fridge that stood in the corner of their office – the one usually filled with sad containers of left over Chinese dragged in by his partners, or the slowly rotting remnants of whatever had supposed been deposited ‘fresh from the store’ (as though either of them would be chomping on lettuce leaves or baby carrots). ”If I’d known the day would go the way it did, I might’ve planned ahead.” The lamb steaks he’d set to marinading that morning would’ve done – after a quick trip home to throw them into a hot pan – but he’d been resigned to that being tomorrow’s dinner, one he’d also eat alone with the painful ripples of the previous night’s late stay at the station still echoing through him.
A-ha!
”Well, we have an appetiser at least, but I think the main course is either going to be that lunch of yours … or a call through to somewhere that’ll deliver tonight…” As Zoey drew the file towards herself, Will set down the tub his partners had overlooked. If they had cracked the lid, the look of the leaf wrapped bundles had probably been enough to set their heathen noses wrinkling. Dolma, packed alongside another tub of leftover kofte and rice, which was now entirely gone – likely gnawed right down to the plastic. He opened the tub, setting it between them, safely away from the documents she was laying out. Whether it was from the scent of them, or skipping lunch entirely, likely to make it to his scene, her stomach chose that moment to growl. ”We’re ordering dinner before we leap into that,” he said firmly. ”Pizza?” He wouldn’t say like the old days, it was just one more nail in the coffin he’d made of their marriage when he was doing everything he could to pry the ones driven through the lid of it loose.
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
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Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on May 22, 2023 16:29:44 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
She could’ve drooled when he mentioned beef rib. Zoey smiled softly, watching Will wheel over to the mini fridge as she settled into the seat across from him. “It’s fine, really,” Zoey mumbled, though her stomach said otherwise.
Could’ve planned ahead? Was that a come-on? He would’ve planned to have some sort of romantic date with her over paperwork and mundane conversation? Oh, God, she was so hungry. She felt tired, too, like she wouldn’t last through half an hour of this.
Finally, he presented something other than her likely-soggy lettuce-wrapped sandwiches, and Zoey all but gnawed off the lid herself. Dolma. Mmmm. “I should be fine with just this,” But she could practically taste the layer of oil on the outside before reaching over and popping one in her mouth. She went for the files first, though, attempting not to seem too eager. Perhaps it was the smell of them, or the idea that food was so close that made her stomach growl but, either way, she was caught in her lie.
Zoey smiled sheepishly, like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. “Pizza.” She nodded, knowing there was no use in arguing. It, unfortunately, would be incredibly reminiscent of their time in the NYPD━even more so than before━but… perhaps that wasn’t so bad. It was nicer then, easier, before everything became so…
She grabbed one wrapped bundle and bit into it, moaning quietly at the taste. The grape leaf tore easily, and a flood of rice and meat poured onto her tongue, perhaps making her feel further famished. Even cold it was so good, though, and she smiled at Will before popping the rest into her mouth. “Thank you.” She hummed, going for another before using her free, non-dolma-holding hand to flip through the files. Once the pizza was ordered, she got to work on comparing evidence, going through each report line by line with Will. She was nothing if not thorough.
Twenty minutes passed in a flash, and Zoey didn’t feel like they were any closer to matching the cases. “We were able to obtain a blood sample from some of the broken glass on the window. That’s never happened in my other cases━blood or broken glass. I already have a DNA profile from forensics.” She’d sent it off right away, and the FBI always worked quickly when rich people were involved. “It came back as…” Zoey pulled the paper out from her file. “... Likely a black male of Jamaican descent, over five-ten. Obviously, his DNA wasn’t in the system, or we’d have him. Ninety-nine percent match for dark hair, ninety percent match for dark eyes…” She sighed, running her finger along the line of an older case in her Art Crime unit. “I don’t have much on my suspect other than a height match, and that was before he learned to evade video cameras or something.” She puffed defeatedly. Lately, every piece of footage came up as unusable or completely deleted, and it was incredibly irritating. Obviously, he was skilled (she knew that already), and Zoey was getting closer and closer to deciding this wasn’t connected to her cases.
Her eyes flicked up to Will’s phone when it buzzed, completely distracting her train of thought (she was thankful for this, though, because it was beginning to get overwhelming). It had to be the pizza. Zoey smiled and leaned back in her chair, relaxing for a moment while Will went to retrieve it.
By the time he returned, she’d shifted the files to the side, laying them in crisscrossed stacks so as to not confuse which belonged with which. Maybe she was going crazy, but she was sure she’d smelled the pizza before Will entered the room. Zoey sat up in her chair, dark eyes following Will. “Thank you, again, for ordering. I can pay for half if you want.” She knew he wouldn’t take it, but it felt right to offer, especially when they were splitting bills anymore.
Once the box was down, Zoey was practically on top of it, flipping the lid up and revealing… a heart-shaped pizza. A heart-shaped pizza. “Oh my God,” She mumbled, her eyes flicking up to Will, a tiny smile on her lips. “Did you do this?” Zoey chuckled awkwardly, though she hadn’t heard him say anything about a heart or any kind of “specials” while he was ordering it. It must’ve been a mistake on the company’s part, but… hell, it was still pizza. “I think I’m too hungry to care. I guess it’s a romantic precinct date after all.” She scoffed, then immediately went rigid like she’d said something inappropriate. Zoey didn’t apologize for it, though━she just dove in for a slice to shove in her mouth, hoping that would stop anything else from falling out of it.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE | |
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WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
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Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on May 26, 2023 22:13:50 GMT
Jill had been discrete enough after the auction, although he’d braced himself for the knowing looks and smug questions when he’d walked into the station the morning after – still carrying the feel of Zoey’s touch on his skin. Perhaps she’d tried to draw the story of the rest of their night out of Zoey then, but things had gone no further. It had been a relief. Tonight was another. There was nothing going on but work - yet - but there weren’t witnesses to twist up what was unfolding in his office either.
He’d tried to shield Zoey from all of that in New York, but he’d heard the whispers that slipped around the department, all sharp gleeful edges to cut. Will glanced past Zoey as she laughed, the corners of his mouth twitching higher, looking at his open office door. Whatever it took, he would stop that from happening again. What was between them - that shifting equation he still hadn’t entirely got a grip on – wasn't anybody’s business but theirs.
With nothing, perhaps, but suspicions, his partners would strut in tomorrow morning, narrowed eyes darting around the room, as though they could figure out what he’d done when they’d left by the invisible signs he’d left behind. For just a moment he’d wondered what they might have left behind to try and gather than evidence, but there would be no heady scent of roasted beef and marsala in the air, not even the faintly vinegary tang of the dolma. Will glanced back as he dipped into the fridge, tilting his head at Zoey’s reassurances, half expecting another rumble to turn her into a liar. ”It was a little short sighted.” But then nothing that had occurred since Zoey had shown up here, her skirt ripped, their lives colliding again, had been anticipated.
This should’ve been, despite his not being the hands that had lifted the paintings off the wall in that apartment. Zoey was diligent, focused so hard on what might’ve led to him that a maybe wouldn’t have swayed her from a night away from this place. She would work until it was an answer one way or another, pushing her own needs aside as she’d obviously done earlier for her lunch to still be uneaten. Will made a dubious sound as he opened the tub, glad to see the dolma remained unmolested by the philistines he was partnered with. ”We’ll order,” he said, not brooking any argument as Zoey’s abstinance became another rumble. He delicately plucked one of the grape leaf bound parcels from the box, brandishing it at her until she was smiling sheepishly over her body’s betrayal and agreed. ”We’ll split one, make it a bullpen picnic.” Not that they were trapped in the morass of other detectives here. It would feel like a far more private affair, all the bluster of a half dozen others drawn to the pepperoni like moths to a flame stripped away.
It certainly felt intimate as he watched her bite into the dolma, lips curling into a smile immediately after she swallowed. Will dropped his gaze away from hers for a moment, almost embarrassed to have been caught watching her. Zoey’s thanks had him looking back up. ”You’re welcome,” he murmured softly. He drew in a sharp breath, picking up the handset on the desk to call the restaurant. There was a heavy buzz of music and voices in the background, but he got the pizza ordered, looking up at Zoey to make sure that her tastes hadn’t changed since the last time they’d done this.
The moment the call was over, she was into the files, work taking presidence over the smalll talk that would just drag the night out. This wasn’t New York, it wouldn’t be the same pie here, but Will was already stripping his tie off as they began to pick their way through the evidence reports, rolling his sleeves up to avoid the grease that would’ve rolled down his wrist back home. Brow furrowed, elbows planted on the edge of the desk, he tried to find what didn’t fit in the report, the mistakes he wouldn’t have made, without giving away that he could’ve sworn on a stack of bibles now that they were different perpetrators.
Will’s gaze flicked over as Zoey stated there was blood left behind on the shattered remnants of the window. Of course there hadn’t been any before, because he’d never have allowed himself to be that sloppy. This could be the damnation of whoever had stolen from Mrs Herschel. Forensics obviously hadn’t found a match in the system yet, but if they found themselves a suspect the blood would be the final nail in his coffin. He set aside the witness statements from the neighbours – all relatively useless – his brows knitting. ”Over five-ten leaves a lot of room for a mis-match. You didn’t manage to pull any DNA from any of the other scenes?” The laugh over the differences Zoey wasn’t aware of stuck in his throat. He’d been clean every time, even before Lex’s help. Now the Boy Wonder would likely just go tapping at a keyboard and in seconds whatever had been scraped from the minute traces he’d left behind would vanish. He could see the frustration at that in Zoey’s expression, felt his gut knot in response. He was the cause of all that frustration and had no way of solving it without turning it into betrayal and anger.
The buzz of his phone pulled him away from the guilt of the thought. ”Dinner’s here,” he announced, as though he had to confirm that he wasn’t slipping off for some sort of assignation in the parking lot. His fingers found Zoey’s shoulder, squeezing lightly as he passed her and headed out into the hallway. Cool air nipped at his bare forearms as he opened the back door of the station and passed off a couple of bills – including a hefty tip – for the grease spotted box. He felt a little like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, luring his ex-wife in as he slipped back into the office with the box, setting it down on the freshly cleared spot between them. ”I don’t want,” he assured her, his lips curling. ”I was probably going to cave and order if I ended up here late anyway. We’ll call this you saving me from eating the entire thing alone.”
And, God, that would’ve been worse. A heart shaped kick in the teeth as soon as he opened the box. ”Me? Lord no,” Will puffed. He shook his head vehemently, the tick of his chin slowing as he realised there was a small smile on Zoey’s lips. Huffing out an amused breath, he glanced down at the thing. ”I wouldn’t have even thought to.” Once upon a time. Heat rushed to his face, not from the steam that still seemed to rise from the pizza. ”We couldn’t avoid it, even locked away here...” Or that awkwardness that still froze them like they were playing Red Light, Green Light.
He picked up a slice, breaking up one of the curves of the top of the heart, avoiding that centre dip that would be too much like breaking it. ”Do … you think it’ll be as good as the pizza at La Divina? I was almost desperate for a decent slice when I got here.” Although just considering going to grab one had stopped him in his tracks. Like so many other things, it had been theirs, any right he’d had to it lost when he’d reduced their marriage to rubble. At Christmas he’d crept back across the battle ground, had found Zoey in the middle of it, flickering images of what had been overlaying what was now, wanting nothing more than to bring it all back into focus as a single image.
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ZOEY WASHINGTON
Human
Posts: 54
Played by:
Julia
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 14:17:26 GMT
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Post by ZOEY WASHINGTON on Jun 12, 2023 20:52:14 GMT
━ nothing good is born from lies ━
Zoey grumbled, though the pizza arrived soon enough, managing to show up before Zoey bit Will’s head off instead. And, honestly, she was too hungry to care about its shape in the end.
She wasn’t too hungry to notice his comment, though. Wouldn’t have even thought to? It shouldn’t have upset her, they weren’t together anymore, and William was free to do or see whoever he wanted. But… they had been. And more than married, they’d been together only a little while ago, he’d admitted he still loved her, but he… oh, she was thinking about this too much. She wondered if Addy would’ve come up with a pun for this, too. Hungelous? Hangry-overthinking? Alright, that was the reason Zoey didn’t have any conjoined-word jokes in the chamber.
But he couldn’t avoid it━Valentine’s Day or a romantic precinct date?━and Zoey supposed she couldn’t be irritated because she thought the same thing. She didn’t want to be stuck in this situation with Will. She loved him, but God, it was far too confusing. Especially when all she really wanted right now was pizza.
Zoey chose her slice based on the look, picking the one with the biggest crust-bubble because it was always Addy’s favourite. It was the slice that mirrored Will’s, and she took a big bite and hummed quietly. It wasn’t the best pizza she’d ever had, and it wasn’t moan-worthy like the dolma, but it was still food. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to avoid it?” Zoey asked quietly━against her better judgement━and quickly filled her mouth with another bite. Hungarrassed.
“Nothing’ll ever beat La Divina.” Zoey said finally, still with some pizza in her mouth. She didn’t normally speak with her mouth full (like, ever), but she was desperate to jump on another topic. She swallowed before continuing, smiling now that she remembered their Valentine’s date there… and every other night they ordered. “Do you remember the night we went and they mixed up our order? The look on your face when they set the anchovy-covered pizza on our table…” Zoey laughed as she recalled his expression, then took another bite of her pizza. Even without the anchovies, it didn’t hold a candle to that place.
Zoey leaned back in her seat and hummed, chewing happily as she finally began to squash her hunger. “Oh, that pink place. Remember the Pink Pier on our first Valentine’s? I thought you were crazy,” She laughed, recalling the themed accessories she’d borrowed from Addy, and how they clashed so badly with the whole pink ambiance. “But it really won me over in the end. The heart-shaped ravioli were so adorable. Oh, and the macaroons? The lobster?” Zoey hummed and aimed her smile across the desk at Will. “I don’t think I’ve had fresher chocolate-covered strawberries. Wait, that’s a lie…” She remembered the look Will had given her as she’d eaten them, and how he’d recreated the feeling the next time he needed to coax her with food. Chocolate fondue with an array of fresh fruit… she also remembered the need for a shower after they peeled themselves off the living room floor because of the fruit juice caked to her skin.
Zoey blushed. She finished her slice and reached for another, then went back to flitting through the work pages with her designated non-food hand. “I was also thinking… the issue with this case is that it doesn’t fit the regular profile.” Nothing really fit, but she’d carry out her due diligence anyway. “Usually, the homeowners are unwilling to work with us and have no record of their purchases. Mrs. Herschel was cooperative, and her lack of records was explained━she provided a picture of the artwork, correct?” She rummaged through the box before pulling out the baggie containing it. “They never tell me or my team so easily. And, aside from that, these two pieces were never missing. With the last burglary, both were Canaletto, and they hadn’t been seen since the Nazi’s occupation of the Netherlands. And the only reason I figured it out was the butler; the homeowner wanted nothing to do with us.” She shook her head and sighed, “But they’ve just been stolen again. Who knows where they’ll end up.” Zoey would. She would figure out who stole these priceless paintings and squeeze the truth out of them.
WILLIAM CARNEGIE | |
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WILLIAM CARNEGIE
Warlock
Posts: 168
Age:
32
Occupation:
Detective/Art Thief
Status:
It's Complicated
Partner:
Zoey Washington
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Oct 29, 2024 20:13:54 GMT
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Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Jun 25, 2023 19:59:37 GMT
It would never be that easy while her perpetrator was him. Will pinched his lips together, trying not to outwardly respond to that tiny welling of pride in the pit of his stomach. If a DNA match came back, it wouldn’t have been his. He wasn’t some cheap, common thief, stealing for the thrill of it, or to hope he got enough from whatever was fenced to keep him in whatever ended up in his veins or up his nose. It wasn’t about getting a kick out of it, and it sure as hell wasn’t about talking all that an old woman had left. The opposite had been the reason he’d started this in the first place and that was the only bit he was sure Zoey might understand if the truth came spilling out one day.
His heart had squeezed uncomfortably at the thought of revealing it all to her, but the pain was rapidly shoved aside. He still had the room to make a choice, and perhaps if he could clear his plate of what he’d tracked to this region he could find some breathing room, time to focus on their relationship – if either one of them were in a mindset to consider it that yet. A gradual retirement that would like small, charred spots of regret on the edges of his heart, like there were on the pizza he hadn’t intentionally ordered. It would be an improvement on the guilt that had seared him like a blowtorch, those wounds he hadn’t been able to reveal without showing too much of what was going on out of Zoey’s sight.
If he had thought about it … No. Now wouldn’t have been time for the overture that would continue their slow shift from what they had been to this new version of them. Valentine’s night wasn’t the time for fresh pain. Apology rose in his voice the way ruefulness rose in his cheeks. Unsure how to negotiate those scorch marks on what had been between them, Will reached for a slice, his eyes on Zoey’s fingers as they plucked one from her side of the pizza, then trailing up to her lips as she bit into it. He hesitated for just a moment before taking a bite of his own, his shoulders slumping slightly. ”Would we ever want to?” he asked, his voice lighter than the question perhaps should’ve been. Those little reminders had fresh blasts from that blowtorch for months after he’d arrived in town, the pain withstood with a public flinch, nursed in private.
He could’ve mapped out each one now, the landmarks of their courtship, the deeper foundations of the early days of their marriage, maybe enough to avoid it, but since Zoey had arrived in Mystic Falls it had been as though they’d both purposefully returned to them.
Will let out a low sound of agreement as he bit into the pizza finally, licking a spiderweb like strand of cheese from his lower lip. It was good, but not overlaid with memories the way pizza from LaDivina would’ve been. Zoey had to start drawing from the well of memories that clustered thick around the restaurant – take out delivered to the station, brought home after long shifts that left them too tired to move from the couch. The box balanced on the coffee table, within reach of the bodies that tangled around one another on the wide cushions, bottles of beer sweating next to them. Gulping convulsively from the glass of chianti at his elbow at the imagined taste of the anchovies on the pizza that had been set down between the candles on their table.
The muffled agreement became a groan, his other hand clutching at his chest as he looked down at the slice at his hand in concern – in case. A smile creased Will’’s face as he looked back up. ”It still haunts my nightmares,” he lied glibly. ”It was a travesty, good pizza wasted on those little devils.” He remembered the way she’d bravely tried a slice anyway, the look on Zoey’s face as she’d realised he was absolutely right about their not belonging anywhere near a pizza and the faint tang of them on her lips as he’d kissed her afterwards. Will took another bite and swallowed, trying to wash away that part of the memory. Overlaying tonight with the good parts of the past was a dangerous game, one he’d rather not loose as the two of them stepped back again.
But Zoey wasn’t stepping back. Will drank in the mood that bubbled out of her in little wafts of happiness. There’d been so little of that at the end, every word – every lie – out of his mouth draining it from her. Will let the hand holding his piece of pizza settle back onto his blotter, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked smile. ”Oh, I wasn’t. I knew exactly how much you’d enjoy it.” But the lady had still been caught in that space between loving him and not entirely trusting the commissioner’s rich boy son. The place had practically glowed, the same way Zoey’s cheeks did when she blushed, bathing them in a sugary light. Everything had been pink or heart shaped, endless aphrodisiacs that had worked out in his favour in the end. ”The second freshest chocolate-covvered strawberries,” he agreed. ”It took some beating though. I tried getting hold of the head chef’s number the next day to find out where he sourced his strawberries from. He wouldn’t take my call.” His laugh was almost bashful. He would’ve taken details of the entire menu to have Zoey lighting up the same way again, but then he’d realised it hadn’t just been the menu that’d made it happen.
Strawberries – and lobster – went on the mental shopping list he kept. A shameless ploy for later perhaps, but maybe it would do something to skirt those scorch marks that still blistered their hearts. No shower afterwards this time perhaps, but watching Zoey’s face light up as she bit into one of the strawberries draped in its gown of Belgian chocolate would bring the memory rushing back. He watched it light up her face now and looked back down at his pizza, starting in on it again as Zoey went for another slice, pushing the personal aside for the work. ”There’s nothing typical about it then, other than it being by one of the masters?” A coincidence, although it the circumstances of this meant that the pieces would go on his retrieval list.
Dark brows drawing together, Will felt a knot in the pit of his stomach slither loose. He cleared his throat, nodding as Zoey fished it out. ”Was there any ID on the other stolen pieces? If the homeowners weren’t cooperative, it’s got to have been a wild goose chase on some of these pieces. I’d lay money on them ending up right back on the black market … but that would be your wheelhouse, not mine. I can speak to Mrs. Herschel again tomorrow … see if anything else has come to her about what’s happened. I’m sure she won’t mind the company.” The pieces weren’t on the black market again, each, where he’d been able to so far, had been returned to the family it had originally belonged to. A few were still in storage, waiting for the lines he’d cast out into the community of those who’d been displaced and whose lives had been destroyed by the war to twitch with a bite. He wanted them to have that small gift of something lost given back, just as he’d given Zoey’s family back a little part of their past.
Eventually Zoey would put it together and then his chances of remaining out of a cell would exponentially shrink. This needed to end, no names added to the list, no considering the greater good above what either one of them deserved. Will tucked the last chunk of pizza into his mouth and scooted his seat back. He smiled around the mouthful, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "I think I might know where there’s a bottle of wine tucked away. How about we set this aside for a bit, enjoy dinner and celebrate the fact that we didn’t end up with reminders of all our Valentine’s day’s past? An anchovy absence is definitely a cause for a toast.” He’d make it up to Buckley one way or another, although given the man’s penchant for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, it was at least a little deserved. Perhaps he’d just make it up to Roxxi instead, offering up some small morsel of news about what it had been needed for in exchange for the bottle. Will eased his way up again, knowing that the rest of those knots in the pit of his stomach would be easier to ignore with a glass or two of wine.
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