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wraithdance · 3 months ago

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The Five Year Plan | Gaz x Reader

Note: F!Reader, Readers nickname is 'Siggy', there will be no y/n use Content warning: nothing other than a terrible grasp of british-isms

Chapter Four (1/2): There's a Conspiracy Afoot

You are not late to work. You were simply… avoiding calamity.

Calamity in the form of an idiot blond ex and the knee hugger of a woman clinging to him outside your apartment building on a Monday morning.

You're glaring from behind the hedges where you'd darted upon seeing the couple canoodling hand in hand. The degree of happiness they emit is a great assault to one's senses. It would bring a smile to your face if a grand piano were to rain from the sky in cartoon-ish flare, right on-top of their disgusting display.

At the very least you'd love nothing more than to march right over and wallop them with your very cute (albeit dreadfully painful) heels.

But alas, you can't. The doorman stands sentry out front playing candy crush on his brick of a phone. You're already on thin ice with him for that big misunderstanding regarding the amount of packages you have delivered. Especially after that time you impulsively redecorated your living room all at once.

(It's what you get for following that monochrome minimalism trend knowing your fickle nature and propensity for color. And clutter.)

You’re chewing the gloss off your bottom lip when a dark form enshrouds your view between the gaps of the hedges. Your face drops into a flat expression as you take in the combat boots and wide stance of the bane of your existence.

With a guttural groan you straighten and roll your shoulders back with all the dignity you can muster under the circumstance. Kyle raises a brow, his features are obscured by the aviator glasses perched on his nose, but you know there's a teasing look in his eye. You scowl.

“Garrick," you lift your chin with an aggrieved exhale, "lovely to see you again as always.”

Per usual Kyle's smile is open and too bright for the early hours.

"Good morning Siggy, I'll ignore the sarcasm as usual.. but should I ask?"

Your eyes dart from him to the couple who'd finally stopped merging faces to slowly walk down the path to the building.

You bend your knees and scooch to duck a bit more behind the overgrown greenery with a curse. When Kyle turns his head to look behind him you clear your throat loudly in panic, reclaiming his attention.

"Hm, ask what exactly?" you hope your smile is convincing but you do feel your eye twitch a bit when Madelyn’s high pitched voice sounds out. Kyle of course notices and smirks in a way you hate.

The man was always so determined to be an irritant, such a shame.

“Why are you hiding behind a bush from Maddie?”

You squint your eyes and laugh in (faux) shock at his accusation.

“Garrick, do not besmirch my good name in such a way, I hide from no one.”

He scoffs and shifts his weight from one side to the other. You want to call him conceited for taking off his glasses so you can properly take in his look of disbelief, but you are properly distracted.

His brown eyes are very… well brown.

Also almond shaped with lashes a man should have no business having. He chooses to squint them to give you a flat look that does nothing to dampen the obvious mirth. He reaches over to pluck a leaf from your hair and dodges your flapping hands with ease.

“Then what are you doing behind a bush instead of heading to work?”

That gets your hackles raised in defense, you did not have time for his judgmental tone or his Nosy Nancy proclivities! Especially with calamity on the horizon and less than a sneeze away.

“Garrick, I am continuously concerned about your knowledge of my schedule,” you wag a finger in his direction in reproach, he doesn’t bother to look at it. “Besides, I’m just… admiring the quality of this gorgeous plant- oh, Bollocks!”

You crouch so suddenly that your knees vehemently protest with a humiliating crack. You’re willing to ignore the pain in order to not be seen by a skipping Madelyn as she hops ahead of Hugo towards your hiding spot.

For the love of all things holy and baked, you couldn’t deal with either of them right now. No matter how much you long to pummel them, the stakes were higher with Kyle lounging about to witness.

“Oh, Hi Kyle!”

You’re muttering curses under your breath and pleading with a curious Kyle with your eyes. It is by some act of goodwill on Garrick’s part that he turns to face a jovial Madelyn who comes to a stop before him. He slides to the left to further hide you behind his solid form and you have half a mind to kiss him.

(The other half of your brain of course calls you an imbecile but you choose to ignore such negativity.)

“Oh, you’re in your uniform, I’m glad I caught you before you left!” Madelyn says in a chipper voice.

Frowning you realize you hadn’t taken in Kyle’s dark khakis and the windbreaker stamped with British Special Services on the sleeve. If you crane your neck further you can see the duffel bag at his side but you’re scared you’ll topple over in your heels and oust yourself.

“Hi Maddie,” Kyle says politely, “Yeah I was just headed out. Stopped to take in this nice… bush.”

You make a note to kick him in the shin for his clear teasing when this is all over. It disgusts you that Maddie ooh’s and aw’s in genuine fascination.

“Yes, it is a nice hedge isn’t it? I’ve always thought so myself! Actually, I was just telling Hugo about how lovely the greenery daddy put down for the property was. Oh! Speaking of, Hugo darling!”

It takes all of your control not to reach out and strangle the bushels of pathetic plants in front of you in abject rage as you hear Hugo stride near.

Your knees are starting to burn painfully from the effort of kneeling for so long. You shift your weight, attempting to alleviate some of the strain but you freeze when your forehead jostles the bush slightly.

Kyle gives you a look in his periphery and you take the moment to widen your eyes in what you hope translates: ‘Get rid of them now, PLEASE!’ He makes no sign of understanding frantic telepathy though, as he turns to greet the approaching Frenchmen.

“Poppet, this is Kyle, the one I told you about! He’s Siggy’s neighbor and has the best assortment of tea in the building!”

Nastily you wonder how many cups of tea the tart has had with her neighbors to make such a declaration.

Hugo hums and you watch Kyle outstretch his hand for a handshake. You know Hugo has given him one of his limp, disinterested wags by the way Kyle’s arm flops back to his side and the corner of his eyes tighten.

“So you’re neighbors with Siggy?” Your stomach drops at Hugo’s tone and you watch Kyle stiffen imperceptibly, “That’s… unexpected. I’m sorry, I give you my well wishes.”

Now what the bloody hell did that mean?!

You’re summoning hellfire from your veins and about to totter up on creaky knees that were sure to be dust by now, to hurl an insult when Kyle’s clipped tone stops you.

“Didn’t ask for your apologies, mate.”

You’ve never heard sickeningly playful Kyle so obviously peeved before. You watch him cock his head in what you can only call an arrogant sneer that makes your traitorous core flutter.

“Who are you and what’s your relationship with Siggy that you’re giving out well wishes?”

You can practically see the lies rolling about in Hugo’s empty head when he sputters out some nonsensical tale about knowing you in passing and being friends that enrages you. Before you or Kyle knows it you’re popping up from your hiding spot and pushing Kyle aside.

At least you attempt to but the man is as solid as a brick wall and doesn’t stumble for a moment under the pressure of your insistent hands.

(He does eventually give you the dignity of scooching over a smidge to allow you to stand at his left, which you suppose is generous of him.)

At the sight of you Madelyn lets out an unbecoming squeak and clutches at a stricken Hugo. You place your hands on your wide hips and enjoy the terror your very presence strikes in the two half wits before you.

“Siggy? Have you been there the whole time?” Madelyn hides behind Hugo’s arm at your sneer.

“No Madelyn, I just spirited here on my broom upon hearing lies!”

Madelyn’s lip quivers as she hides her smaller form completely behind Hugo who finally gets his senses back.

“What were you doing behind the bush?” He is brave enough to pretend he isn’t struggling to meet your eyes, “And why aren’t you at work?”

“Never mind that!” You give him your nastiest glare. “What were you saying just now, hm? You were explaining who we are to each other. Go on then!”

Hugo opens his mouth as if to speak but you cut him off and answer your own question.

“Hugo here was my fiance,“ turning to Kyle you look him in his eye with a plastered smile stretching your lips. “at least he was as of three days ago before he let me know he and Madelyn here are expecting a bouncing bundle of joy!”

Kyle’s brow furrows as he looks from you and the now inflamed face of Hugo.

“That’s really messed up-” he doesn’t have a chance to finish when Madelyn lets out a massive sob that cuts him off.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Siggy! I ruined everything!” Madelyn clamps a hand over her mouth as fat tears befall her doe eyes. You open your mouth to tell her where to shove her apology but before you can she’s running off at speeds that may even rival Usain Bolt’s best timing.

Hugo shoots you a look of pure derision.

“Wonderful, look what you’ve done Siggy, very mature of you as always.”

You roll your eyes so hard you make yourself a bit dizzy. “Oh fuck off! You’re a lying, cheating, weasel and I don’t care if she cries. She deserves it!”

Hugo steps forward like he wants to challenge you but thinks better of it when Kyle shifts to stand in front of you.

“Think you’ve done enough, mate. You should go check on your… Maddie.”

Hugo’s cheek twitches a bit but he has the sense to only shoot you another put out look and follow the wails into the building.

“Well that was unpleasant.” With a huff you straighten your back avoiding Kyle’s heated gaze.

“Ha, friends! As if I would ever befriend someone so unbelievably-”

Kyle cuts you off with a hand on your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me the other night?”

With a glare you shrug off the offending limb and level him with a warning look.

“Because it wasn’t and still isn’t your business, Garrick, because we are also not friends. I’ve never come to you about my relationship woes and I’m not going to start now!”

Kyle doesn’t seem to like that at all.

He presses forward and you’re scrambling backwards which only corners you against the hedge. He scrutinizes you for something in your expression, brown orbs flitting between your irises and across the bridge of your nose.

Your mouth parts in a small gasp when his stare trails to your lips, the soft swoosh of air brings his relentless focus back to your eyes. A safe place for his attention to be, you think. You don’t like the stirring in your loins that his attention fosters.

“We are friends.” he says finally after a silent beat.

You sneer at him, opening your mouth to say something caustic about his comprehension skills but it dies in your throat at the steely look he spears you with. You’ve never seen the look before from him. It’s one of that relays he will not allow you to broach objections to his statement.

You close your mouth with an audible click of your teeth.

“We are friends and I would have never comforted Madelyn had I known she did something to hurt you. Especially something like that.”

Your heart doesn’t know whether it wants to clamber up your throat to hurl itself out of your mouth to its death or just stop completely in your chest. Kyle’s expression is open and soft as you search for signs of a lie in his face. Finding none, your breathing is a bit waspish and your tear ducts are doing this odd itchy thing that confuses you.

It’s peculiar to you that your sworn enemy would choose to protect your feelings in such a way in comparison to maintaining niceties with another. It’s something that’s never happened to you before even with those you love.

You don’t want to examine why that makes you feel so utterly lonely and confused.

“Um, yes…” you clear your throat and avoid looking at him “thanks for that I suppose.”

He gives you one of his bright smiles that he passes out like candy. “No need for thanks Siggy. That’s what friends are for.”

You ignore him and hike your purse farther up your arm. “Yes well, I’m officially in line to be sacked if I don’t make it to work in the next ten minutes, so I have to go.”

Kyle shifts his duffel bag from one hand to the other to look at the watch on his wrist before letting out a considering hum. “I’m just headed in for drills and some paperwork, I’ll give you a lift.”

That causes you to jerk back. First of all, you didn’t even know he had a car and secondly, you’re not sure if you can handle being in close quarters with him for any amount of time.

“I don’t-” Kyle waves off the beginning of your protest and slips an arm between one of yours. “Really love, it’s fine. You’ll never make it if you take the train now.”

He’s right of course, but still.

“Garrick, really it’s fine. I can call a car and pop over to the station, there’s really no need.”

He’s nodding his head listening and thwarting your excuses all the while shepherding you to the carport attached to the building. He stops in front of the sleekest and cleanest car you’ve ever seen and you can’t help but squawk.

“Sweet blueberries! This isn’t your car is it?”

He shoots you a nettlesome look as he makes a show of clicking the locks on the door. You give him an unimpressed look up and down in return.

“A bit showy for a man of your career don’t you think?”

Kyle lets out a bark of laughter. “I’m not a priest Siggy, I’m allowed to have my toys too you know.”

Your lips are pursed, not allowing yourself to snark that you both have a different definition of ‘toys’.

With the practiced grace of someone far too obsessed with the optics of being a lady, you slide into the car's interior as Kyle holds open the door.

You think you hear him mumble a something flippant about having the Queen of England in his presence but he closes the door behind you before you can question it. He stops at the boot of the car to place his duffel bag before sliding into the driver’s seat.

Bergamot and the citrusy scent of his after shave fills the space and your eyes flutter shut.

“Okay?”

You snap your eyes open and give him a scratchy ‘yes, lovely’ that you hope is convincing.

During the drive you’re careful about keeping your gaze out the car's windscreen or the tinted window on your side as Kyle drives. You do happen to take a peek from behind lowered lashes at the way he handles the wheel with one hand. He’s steady and efficient in maneuvering in and out of London’s morning traffic.

When he catches you peeking at him he shoots you a grin that you roll your eyes to.

The exterior of your office building is foreboding and it takes a bit of effort not to groan seeing your boss’s parking spot occupied by her vehicle. Kyle raises a brow in concern as he stops at the curb in front of the lobby.

“Well thank you for the ride Garrick. I need to make my grand entrance now and hope for the best.”

“It’s not a problem.” He looks like he wants to say something further and you give him a look to continue with your hand on the door.

“If you ever need another ride you can just knock on my door when I’m in-”

“Nope!” you cut him off and prop open the door in a hurry.

Turning you squat slightly to look at his narrowed eyes. “Thanks for the offer but one time is enough. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do, Garrick. Good day!”

You don’t wait for a reply and close the door, obscuring his disgustingly heart stopping look of confusion. Sweet blueberries the man would not trick you into lowering your guards!

Without a glance back you make quick strides into your 8 hour prison. The pair of security guards out front give you a knowing look that you stick your tongue at. No time for judgment; you had a high risk mission to complete.

Carefully you stomp-sneak up the stairwell closest to the office you share with your co-worker Estelle.

Estelle’s bespectacled gaze widens at the sight of you standing outside the threshold, separated only by the glass door. She’s mouthing something frantically to you and jerking your head in a way that makes you concerned that she’s coming down with something.

“Stellie darling," you say as you open the door "why do you look like you’re having a spasm? What’s-”

Your body flinches back violently at the sight of your boss perusing your assortment of figurines on your shelf with her hands clasped around her back.

Oh bloody hell!

Estelle gives you a ‘I tried to warn you’ look with her face that you actively ignore. Always the professional bullshitter you plaster on a wide smile, inching towards your desk to drop your purse atop it.

“Good morning, Mrs. Montclair! I don’t think we have a meeting scheduled today, so to what do I owe the ple-”

“You’re late.” She turns to you with a thinly raised brow. You want to sink into your So Kate shoes at the withering look but you steel your back.

“Uh yes ma’am, I had a bit of trouble with getting to the train station-”

She looks startled. “Was there another Piccadilly situation?”

You share a look with Estelle.

It was no secret Aimee Montclair had developed a phobia of terrorism after the Piccadilly attacks a few years prior. Any mere mention of possible organized violence sent her in a tizzy of anxiety.

Estelle shakes her head at you but eventually the dark skinned woman rolls her eyes, knowing exactly what unsavory thing you’re about to do.

You furrow your brow and look at your feet, mustering up a tremor in your voice.

“No thank goodness! There was just a bit of a fray this morning, it was so frightening! Ever since those awful attacks I’ve been wrought with worry and I completely lost track of time looking for alternate transportation.”

Aimee nods her head in understanding.

Her weathered hands fuss with the chain on her neck in anxiety, as you assume she’s in the midst of working herself up. After a moment her artic blue eyes snap to you and she lets out a huff.

“Yes well, don’t make tardiness a habit.” She looks from you to Estelle as she strides to the door past you, “Set aside time with me before lunch to discuss… well you know. Also, send the Morrigan contract to my assistant, I expect it within the hour.”

Without waiting for a reply she leaves in a whirlwind of silks and coiffed gray hair.

Estelle throws the top of her pen at you. “You are such a dirty liar you know that right?”

You give her a sarcastic curtsy and make your way to your desk.

“I do what I must to get results, Stellie. Besides, pause your judgment. I have to tell you about the circus of a morning I’ve had.”

Estelle mumbles something under her breath about being chaotic evil but concedes.

When you recount your tales of horror and the unexpected save by the awful man that is your neighbor she gasps.

“He said you were friends?”

You frown. “That’s not important, refocus please! Let’s discuss the Hugo situation.”

She sucks her teeth and huffs, turning back to the game of solitaire hidden behind her open emails. “Let’s wait until lunch to discuss it with the girls.”

That perks you up. This was indeed a moment perfect for a little hen session over treats at Le Misa’s. “Good thinking Estelle, I’ll reserve a table and you text the hens. They’re going to want to hear this.”

A/N Had to split this chapter in half because as you can see it's very long lmao. Working on editing the second portion and hopefully it'll be out by tomorrow. (Don't quote me on that I have classes and am but a frantic pterodactyl.)

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