#detective branjie

[kero-ppi]

Branjie Fan Theory

Brooke Lynn Hytes as won season 11 and this is how I know!!!

Lets collect the data.

• Brooke has been doing extreamly well

• Brooke is dating Vanessa Vanjie

• Vanessa said on Twitter to get married at drag con 😭😭😱

• In Iggy Azalea new video 'Started' Iggy kills her husband for money

• In this video VANESSA APEARS AND SAYS " HELP ME KILL MINES"

Now why would Vanessa want to kill her dear husband Brooke Lynn Hytes?

Because Brooke Won RuPauls Drag Race!!!

😱😱😱😱😱

Beware guys, we need to keep Brooke safe!!!

[tumble4rpdr]

Am I the only one wondering why Brooke calls Vanessa the detective? I get that Brooke is twinkle toes because he does ballet (on pointe shoes) and Vanjie always makes fun of his feet (and I’m sure there are a few other reasons) but just where did the detective come from? I will say that I’m happy to finally understand their consistent use of the 🕵🏼‍♂️ emoji though.

[imalwaysaslutfordrag]

WIP List

AN: Rather than a six sentence sunday, I wanted to provide a list of my current WIPs in the hopes that yall would tell me what ur most interested in seeing. I’m going to focus on getting like they do in vegas finished, and the last chapter of TNH out, but afterwards, I would like input on what you guys are most interested in seeing so I can start working on that. 

Thanks yall <3

Fics I haven’t started on:

Branjie HS AU: Multichap. Lesbian AU. Slow burn. Angst. Fluff.

S: Brooke is a nerd, Vanessa is a popular cheerleader. In a quintessential high school movie from the 2000s, Vanessa’s friends make her the deal that if she can get the shy nerdy kid to fall in love with her, she can be the cheer team captain.

Dream AU: (oneshot or multichap I haven’t decided) Lesbian AU. College AU.

Crystal has always had an active imagination. And that fact isn’t limited in her dreams. For as long as she can remember, as soon as she falls asleep, she is taken to the same dreamworld. Over the years, she has gotten to know the residents of this world and has even befriended some of them. One night, as she’s trapsing through the forest, she comes across a mysterious stranger who turns out to be the queen.

Jankie Neighbors AU: Oneshot. Lesbian AU. Enemies? to friends to lovers. Fluff.

S: Jackie moves into her grandmother’s old house after she passes. Her grandmother was a gardener, Jackie is not. But the girl in the house next door is. Cue Jackie attempting to best Jan in a plant war that only one of them realizes is a plant war. 

Methydoll Soulmate AU: Oneshot. Lesbian AU. Fluff. Angst.

I haven’t figured out the logistics quite yet, but the tentative summary is: In a world where you get reincarnated until you end up with your soulmate, Nicky and Crystal meet several times, but the timing is never quite right.

Fics I have started on but have nothing published:

Jankie Detective AU: (with background methydoll because I can’t resist) Multichap. Lesbian AU. Enemeies with benifits kinda. Slow burn ish?

S: Jan is an FBI agent working to dismantle New York City’s oldest mafia network. One night she goes out to a bar and sleeps with a random woman. When Jan walks into work the next day she finds out that the woman she slet with, Jackie, is her new partner on the case. Jackie is arrogant and cocky and Jan loves to hate that about her.

Criminal AU: (Branjie) (In the same universe as Detective AU) Slow burn. Enemies to lovers.  

S: V is a world renowned art theif. Brooke is tasked with taking her down. But just as Brooke is starting to make some head on capturing V, a new, much more dangerous criminal comes on to the scene. Forcing B and V to work together to bring the new criminal to justice.

Heavy Is The Head: (GoodeDoll) Royal AU. Lesbian AU. Enemies to Lovers

S: Gigi is a princess that is due to be wed any day now. At a yearly tournament where suitors fight to win her affection, the winning knight throws the kindgom into a frenzy when she reveals herself to be a girl. Gigi doesn’t want to marry anyone, let alone a cocky solider who is more interested in leading her father’s army than in Gigi. 

Whiskey Girls: (Branjie) Bartender/Celeb AU. Lesbian AU. Set around 1968

S: Brooke is a famous drummer in a band. Vanessa owns a bar. They meet in the summer of 68′ and fall in love with the background of the Mississippi Delta.

Fics I have started on and have stuff published:

Blue Neighborhood: (Multi Ship with all S12 queens) HS AU. Fluff. Angst. Coming of age. 

S: This series is based on Troye Sivan's Blue Neighborhood album. All of the season 12 girls grew up in the same neighborhood and each song off the album is representative of a different situation they are in.

like they do in vegas: (Vanique) 

S: Vanessa is a Casino Girl just trying to get by. Monique is a mysterious rich stranger. They meet in the city of sin. What could possibly go wrong?

To New Hytes No one cares or remembers this one lol. I’m working on the last chapter and it is hurting my heart, but I’ll have it out by next month!

[blhates]

Same here with Kamjie. I am trying so hard to get with the program but as hot as they are 🔥 I just cannot get them anywhere near levels of Branjie in my mind (nothing ever will, I literally flail at any interaction lol). I feel like if it was anything actually legit, legit with Kam V would of been so fucking obvious with it. Although I'll eat my words if I'm wrong

Branjie has us hooked and stuck in this clown car 🚗 🤡

I'm still skeptical about how legit it is. But I know if it were substantial the absolute detectives here would sniff it out sooner than you could finish saying vegas revue

[sohytes]

UM THE BRANJIE OCEANS 8 AU?! Write that PLEASE

gonna be real: wanted to write a little summary of what i had in mind and actually ended up writing a whole ass multi-chaptered concept so it's probably gonna happen and i dont want to spoiler it, so here's the light version:

Vanessa is a high class thief, we talking Ocean's 8 all in one little bitch, she owns a night club and she's the most important criminal of the city, everybody is at her feet, but she has a very weak spot for the ladies and would never dare to hurt one.

Brooke is a detective, FBI, something, we talking lesbian Jim Gordon from Gotham. High morals, seemingly the only incorruptible one left.

I'm just saying but from the stuff I've written it sounds great and I'm very excited 🤗 let me know if you would like to read it

[theartificialdane]

Wait B is staying at jasons at the moment?

I love being Branjie central, but I think you guys are forgetting that I’m on Europe time and therefor always horribly behind on any and all news, haha.

Detective anons 🕵🏼‍♂️ have noticed that in the video of Brooke catwalking her Emmy look, it seems like he’s outside Jasons apartments.

But there are also the Follow Me Around videos, that were filmed in 2018, where you see that Brooke and Vanjie are staying together at Jasons if you watch Mayhems Follow me!

[purecamp]

fic masterlist!

a collection of every rpdr i have ever written! contains much shalaska, some shillam, some witney, and dribs and drabs of branjie and taywhora

Oneshots

Sharon fucking Needles - sharon drunk texts alaska, who tells her to get her shit together if she wants to get back together. so that’s what she does.

Conflicted - (au) aaron’s conflicted because he has a secret: he’s a drag queen. little does he know, his boyfriend justin is conflicted too, for the same reason: he’s also a drag queen. one night in a bar, they find out the other’s secret.

Dead Girls Never Say No - after listening to the lyrics written about her in alaska’s bitch track ‘The T’, sharon is understandably upset. fame hardened alaska to the point where she feels like an emotionless dead girl, but as the song goes, dead girls never say no.

Would You Be So Kind - justin feels funny, and he feels funny because he’s in love. aaron feels funny, and he also feels funny because he’s in love. based off the dodie clark song

Vera Amoris - (au) alaska’s a brand new witch in town, who doesn’t know the other witches yet. after getting tricked by the evil phi phi to drink a potion she shouldn’t drink, jinkx rushes her to the town potion master, sharon, for help.

Soulmate - justin believes that in life, you have more than one soulmate, but each of your soulmates stay with you forever. so it still hurts when your first soulmate dies too young.

Weird - (au) alaska finds out her asshole boyfriend is cheating on her, and promptly breaks up with him. however, she’s left with a problem: she has no money, her phone is dead and broken, and she’s lost. a hooker by the name of sharon needles comes to the rescue, which in alaska’s eyes is frankly? a little weird.

Two Hearts and a Home - pure fluff and romance ensues in early december, when justin enlists the help of his lazy boyfriend aaron to put up the christmas tree.

Say Cheese! - sharon won’t smile for a picture. alaska is determined that, anyway she can, she will get the bitch to fucking smile.

Ferris Wheel - it’s not shalaska it’s witney. willam has a date perfectly planned out for courtney, but she ruins it by insisting they go on the fair down at the beach. willam totally isn’t afraid of heights, the ferris wheel doesn’t bother her at all.

Did You Miss Me Enough To Drink Or Did You Drink Enough To Miss Me? - sharon drinks far too much and sometimes can’t stop saying what’s on her mind. alaska doesn’t know if she misses her enough to drink, or if she simply drank enough to miss her. she never finds out.

Lost and Found - (au) it’s been five weeks since alaska went missing from her college, which she attended with girlfriend sharon and best friend jinkx. then, out on a walk at one in the morning, sharon finds her.

Turn Off The Lights - every time alaska calls, sharon answers. she swears she’s going to give her up, but she never does. she’s taking every chance she’s got, like the man she knows she’s not. based off the song by panic! at the disco.

Sensible - after falling for shea during the filming of drag race, sasha isn’t sure she’s made a particularly sensible decision, and a little fight ensues.

Mine And Yours - (au) stealing each other’s clothes goes from a fun little game to all-out war. alaska, naturally, intends on winning.

Hush Little Baby - (au) new parent alaska is left at home with her baby girl whilst her wife sharon goes out to work. the problem? alaska is convinced the sniffles and sneezes are something much worse than they actually are.

A-B-C-D-E-F-G - (au) alaska goes to her friend willam’s house for what she thinks is a halloween party. to her surprise, the “party” is more of a seance to chat with a guest who turns out to have more than a little bit of affection for one of the players.

Finding You - witney, in which the infamous willam and courtney fight is explored, and perhaps the root of it all is jealousy?

Piano Wire - (au) collab with @laskathunderfun - a dark sided piece based off of sharon’s song “piano wire” in which aaron is a murderer

Weather Girl - (au) alaska, a brand new weather girl, is a small fish in a big pond of tv news. sharon is the host.

As Long As You’re Mine - (au) inspired by wicked. sharon is always the bad one next to hilarious and well loved katya. for the first time, sharon does something that makes her feel as wicked as they say she is.

She Calls Me Your Highness - (au) the princess willam has a complicated relationship with young serving maid sharon.

What Do You Know About Love? - (au) sharon and willam are boarding school students and best friends who disagree, fundamentally, on their idea of what love is. eventually, they come to an understanding.

My Frankenstein - (au) mad scientist sharon is working on bringing her second creation to life while her first, alaska, watches. halloween fun and my first ever smut! 

The Land Of The Midnight Sun - (au) sharon wants to escape from the world and live where no one will ever find her again. she meets another lost soul who helps her to do so, and she and alaska reflect on how the world got so dark just for loving girls.

(Less Than) A Thousand Miles - (au) with the world in lockdown, alaska begins working from home, and makes a new friend over zoom who begins to brighten her world again.

Strangers - (au) sharon isn’t gay, even if she does hook up with this girl all the time, drunk or sober. she’s not. she swears.

Things That Were - (au) it’s christmas, and brooke reflects on everything that went wrong with vanessa during the awkward transition between xmas and new year.

Someone I Genuinely Love (au) - uni students tayce and a’whora attend lawrence’s house party, when an argument breaks out between a’whora and tia. even the bitch needs some love sometimes.

Multi-chapters

Sharon and Phi Phi’s Bitch Of A Bucket List (discontinued) - the zombie apocalypse has finally happened, and everyone has different priorities. phi phi wants to survive. sharon wants to find alaska. the three of them stumble across their friend’s survival base and try to live their lives. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

Party (complete) - jinkx’s halloween party goes wrong, leading sharon and alaska down a confusing road of drugs, admitting feelings, and hiding. just when things are going okay, it all goes drastically wrong. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

Just The Two Of Us (in progress) - (au) hogwarts student alaska gets together with long-time crush and close friend, sharon, in the same year that the triwizard tournament begins. but her slytherin girlfriend harbours a dark past and the triwizard tournament may only be an obstacle in overcoming that. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14

Mean Queens (complete, collab with @thewritingnymph) - (au) mean girls crossover in which newbie russian, katya, joins a new school and befriends adore and ginger, who have spent most of their school lives being bulled by the three ‘mean queens’ who run the school. sharon, violet and alaska are life-ruiners. the three of them hatch a plan to take the mean queens down once and for all. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21

In Sickness and In Health (in progress) - (au) princess sharon is sick, and the king lets out a desperate appeal to save her: whoever will venture out to find the witch who can do it will recieve riches beyond their belief. however, the princess is inches from death and alaska isn’t sure she can get through it without sharon dying, the witch refusing, or even falling in love. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Bosom Buddies (in progress, collab with @thewritingnymph) - (au) based on the song bosom buddies, two new york-dwelling theatre sisters, alaska and jinkx, get a little more than they bargained for when the circus comes to town, bringing eccentric performers such as ivy winters and sharon needles into the mix. 1 - 2 - 3

Withstanding The Test Of Time (in progress) - (au) intern journalist hates many things, including her job, her coworkers, and the oppression from the government forcing you to marry your soulmate a month after your timer ticks down to zero. luckily, sharon has two years left. and then - she doesn’t. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

Means Queens Ever After (collab with @thewritingnymph) - (au) the mean queens didnt die immediately after prom so here’s the rest of their lives lol. Girls Gone Camping - A Triple A Christmas - Violet’s Fashion Show - Some Things Never Change

Here I Go Again - (au) a mamma mia au in which trixie is getting married and decides to invite her three potential dads, much to her mom sharon’s chagrin. Prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - Epilogue Part 1 - Epilogue Part 2

(I Can Still Recall) Our Last Summer - (au) prequel to here i go again, following the life of young sharon as she meets three strangers who will change her life forever. 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Case Closed - (au) inspired by b99, alaska is the best detective in the NYPD, of course. nothing will change that, not even the arrival of the stupidly named detective needles and her charm. 1 - 2

The Needles Family Values (discontinued) - (au, collab with aqcitrus) addams family inspired fic following the return of alaska’s unusual sister, katya, and the hijinks of the creepy, kooky, mysterious, spooky household. 1 - 2

[tumble4rpdr]

Now Brooke brought back the orange heart

Why are they doing this to us?

[imalwaysaslutfordrag]

I got tagged by the adorable @aqmarion <3

Post the doc titles in your WIP folder, have your followers send asks about titles that intrigue them, and answer with a description or a line from the project.

Bro, I have too many WIPs lol

Oneshots

Couples for Cash (Branjie)

Every Sinner Loves a Saint (Sashea)

Femme dom Jan (Jankie)

Immortals sitting in a coffee shop and talking about lost love

Mischeif and Mistletoe (Branjie)

Thymes A’ Changing (Branjie)

The Sun Never Sets in Aruba (Branjie)

Angel Methydoll

Catch in the Dark (Methydoll)

No One Bruises Me (Bob/Cracker)

The Long Con (Branjie)

hold me while you wait (for someone right) (Branjie)

Just a Little Bit of Life (Witney)

Gigi is cute poolboy and Crystal is hot mom (Crygi)

Chaptered

Criminal AU (Branjie)

Detective AU (Jankie)

Heavy is the Head (GoodeDoll)

In My Dying Days (Branjie)

The Stoplight (Branjie)

Whiskey Girls (Branjie)

BN (S12)

[Redacted Series]

[Redacted Series] (Branjie)

Never Tasted Heaven (Methydoll)

A Marriage Most Foul (Bob/Cracker)

Fake Psychic Trixya

I’m tagging: @missjanjie @plastiquetiaras @pink-grapefruit-cafe @freykitten @phrynewrites @veronicasanders @artificialortega

[imalwaysaslutfordrag]

Hello friends! Update time!

We got two more BN fics left and my goal is to have them done by thanksgiving, so look forward to that.

I’m going to do my best to finish planning out Detective AU/Criminal AU (still not sure if I want to combine them) so I can have it ready to go by early 2021.

Whiskey Girls and HS AU Branjie are gonna be relatively short in terms of word count, so hopefully I can get them done in late December. (I promise I haven’t forgotten about them)

I have two other projects that I’m also hoping to have ready for 2021, but we’ll just see how it goes.

For those of you who don’t know, I started writing for a different fandom, which is why updates are a little more spread out than usual. But hopefully it’ll be better once school is done.

Love y’all.

Stay safe.

[imalwaysaslutfordrag]

What if... hear me out... since they already both take place in the same universe in my head... what if I combine the Jankie Detective AU and the Branjie Criminal AU? Like one chapter jankie, next chapter focuses on branjie?

Or should they stay separate? Idk. Just a thought.

[artificialqueens]

Cruising for a bruising, Part 6 (Branjie) - Q-Tip & TheDane

Authors note: Thank you to everyone for your comments, support, understanding and enthusiasm. Q-Tip and I are so happy with the love for this story, and we can’t wait to share this (hopefully) second to last chapter with you guys!

“It’s a real fucking tragedy, that’s what it is. Like some greek irony bullshit.”

-

“Bitch! Open up!” Vanjie hammered on the door, her curled fist meeting the wood over and over again. “I know you’re in there!”

Vanjie knew she was causing a racket, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. The hotel floor was only her and her sisters anyway, so if any of them had a problem with her making noise, they could suck on it and choke. Vanjie had already knocked down Silky and A’keria’s doors before she remembered they had talked about karaoke. She kicked the door, almost ready to scream in rage. Ariel wasn’t responding, and she was running out of options fast.

“Ariel open the fucking door! Ain’t no way in fucking hell you in there getting dick!”

Vanjie knew she couldn’t go to her own room. Their room. It was the first place Brooke would look for her. Her first and only instinct had been to throw her bag into their room and slam the door behind her, her phone already vibrating like a widow’s favourite sex toy as Brooke was calling her over and over again. Vanjie knew she had made a mistake, but she couldn’t see him right now, her blood still boiling with something even worse going on beneath the surface, tears already pushing to spill from her eyes.

“The stupid motherfucker is going to turn the corner at any moment!”

Vanjie couldn’t see Brooke right now, she just couldn’t, but as long as she was dressed as Vanjie, there was no way she could leave the protected area of their hallway, the idea of her fans seeing her like this forcing her throat to close up.

“Ariel, please.” Vanjie whispered, leaning her head against the door. There was nowhere to run but one of her sisters’ rooms, and she cursed the cruise for forcing this on her. If she had been in L.A she could disappear, go to some straight club and toss down drink after drink, but here everyone knew who she was, and there was no way she would let any of her fans see her like a crazed madman, running from who the public knew to be the love of her life.

Vanjie heard footsteps, her hand gripping the doorknob for one last desperate shake, not yet ready to accept her destiny of blowing up in Brooke’s face once more, when she heard the voice of an angel.

“.. Are you okay?”

Nina fucking West had just come down the hallway, a washed out Winnie the Pooh tank sliding off her shoulder, pyjamas pants on, boy hair out, a half-eaten burger in hand, and she had never looked more perfect to Vanjie. Nina lowered the burger slowly, her eyes watching Vanjie like she was an animal in the zoo, a dollop of ketchup dripping onto the carpet.

“Are you destroying cruise property?”

“I ain’t destroying no fucking proper-”

Vanjie was cut off when the door opened, Ariel poking her head out. She was wearing a zebra print eye mask pushed into her hair, her chest on full display in an open bright pink and turquoise robe.

“Can youse fuckknobs carry your drama to your rooms so us actual beauty queens can get our beauty sleep?” Ariel groaned, leaning against the doorframe, barely hiding a yawn.

“Oh, so this is how you treat refugees, sis?” Vanjie threw her arms out, Ariel’s detached boredom only refueling the fire in her belly. “You better be fucking lucky baby Jesus didn’t plan to get born in your room, huh!?”

“Well you’re neither a baby, nor Jesus last time I checked.”

“You absolute BITCH-”

“Shit!”

Vanjie felt Nina knock the air of her as she was grabbed, the other queen physically restraining Vanjie and picking her up, carrying her away as Vanjie left behind a string of curses so crude even Captain Haddock would blush.

/

Brooke had known, should have known, that Vanjie was smart enough to get rid of her phone, but he had called anyway, over and over again, his heart in his throat as he swiped the card for their room, his worst suspicions confirmed when the room turned out to be pitch black, the outline of Vanjie’s gym bag visible on their bed.

“FUCK!”

Brooke knew no one could hear him, but he yelled anyway, Vanjie’s giant iPhone X clutched in his grip. Brooke pressed the phone, the screen lighting up and he could see his 37 missed calls, his phone bill without a doubt reaching astronomical heights. The background was a picture of them, Brooke holding Vanjie, both of them smiling brightly into the lens, Vanjie’s eyes sparkling with love.

“Shit Jose…”

He had rushed as soon as he could, but they had held him back. Brooke’s hand was throbbing, the bar staff refusing to let him leave until a paramedic had looked at him. He had wanted to protest, had wanted to run after his boyfriend right away, but the staff did have a point, so he had to put on his best behavior, grin and bear it as pieces of glass was fished out of his skin, his left hand ruined. It didn’t help one bit to have Justin there, pelting him with questions about his “psycho” boyfriend.

“Where are you?”

/

“You think you can talk to me like that?! Well I’ll let you meet my real good friends! They’re called Lefty and Righty and you bet they’ll be remodeling your fucking face you son of a cocksucker!”

Getting the door unlocked with a cursing and squrming Vanjie over her shoulder, the Latino wiggling like a fish, was a challenge, but Nina had never been anything but resourceful. Vanjie’s bark was a lot bigger than her bite, and Nina could feel the other queen growing heavier and heavier. A sigh of pure relief left her as she managed to get inside, Nina kicking the door shut behind her before she dumped Vanjie down on the bed, the other queen growing completely quiet, a mix of shock and disbelief on Vanjie’s face.

“So. That was intense.”

They stared at each other, Nina’s blue eyes meeting Vanjie’s brown, neither saying anything. Vanjie tried to get up, but Nina pushed her right back down, a firm hand on her shoulder pushing her back onto the bed.

“What the fuck-”

Vanjie made another attempt, but the same thing happened again, Nina’s palm pushing Vanjie down.

“Take a seat.”

“You’re not the boss of me.”

“I’m not.” The whole thing played out once more, Nina using both hands this time. “But you really need to calm down.”

Having both of Nina’s hands on her shoulders was surprisingly comforting, the heavy weight of Nina’s palms centering and grounding in a way Vanjie hadn’t expected. Her breath was calming down, her heart beat returning to normal. The room was surprisingly cozy and somehow quintessentially Nina, even though it was a hotel room. There were extra pillows on the bed, all of Nina’s stuff neatly unpacked and put away, something neither Vanjie nor Brooke ever bothered to do since they were always on the go, but here, the room almost felt lived in. The ketchup stain on Nina’s shirt caught Vanjie’s attention, the red mark almost making it look like Pooh had been beheaded, the entire thing actually very morbid if you thought about it.

“Feeling better?”

“… No.”

The word caught in Vanjie’s throat, her voice as shaky as she suddenly realised how she felt. It had been sneaking up on her, hiding just under the surface, but Vanjie had pushed it down and then pushed it down even deeper, pouring gallons and gallons of rage on top of it. She wasn’t angry, had never been if she was honest. Instead, she was sad, the sadness so deep it felt embedded in her bones, the hurt from what had happened so sharp she could cut herself on it. Tears welled up in Vanjie’s eyes, Nina’s presence making it impossible to hide.

“I think you should take a shower, get out of drag. Then, if you want, we can talk after.” Nina’s voice was infinitely soft, the wrinkles around her eyes reminding Vanjie of those on her mother’s otherwise youthful face. “What do you say to that?”

“Okay.”

/

“Hey, anyone in there?!”

Brooke was knocking on the fourth door of the night. Both Silky and A’keria had been a bust, so he had started working his way from left to right. Raja had responded right away but she hadn’t left her room all night and was high on top of it, so Brooke had left the moment he had gotten the chance.

“Kameron!”

Brooke sighed, giving it one last knock before he walked to the next. Brooke wasn’t much of a detective, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Vanjie was still in drag, their room way too clean for Vanjie to have de-dragged, not a single trace of anyone entering in there except for the bag that looked like it had been thrown. The thought was the only thing that kept Brooke sane, panic bubbling under his skin. If Vanjie was still in drag, it meant she still had to be on their floor. There was no way Vanjie would ever risk a fan seeing her this upset. She cared about her image and her fans way too much, her love for them so genuine Brooke was almost surprised by it at times, Vanjie never leaving a meet and greet or a performance until she was sure everyone had gotten what they came for, even if she was tired to the very bone.

Brooke moved to the next door, his fist almost connecting with the wood, when it was pulled open, Ariel standing right in front of him, looking more pissed than Brooke could ever remember seeing her before.

“What?!”

Brooke knew he should probably ask, inquire as to why his sister and friend appeared to be having a terrible night, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but one all-important question. Not with his own personal night of hell taking place.

“Have you seen Jose?”

Ariel crossed his arms. “Why?”

“I have to talk to him.”

Ariel looked at him, and Brooke felt like he was being scrutinised, Ariel staring as if she was unveiling his soul, taking a peek at his innermost self.

“She left with Nina.” Ariel sighed, standing up. “I think they’re in her room.”

Brooke hugged Ariel, the other queen losing her breath as Brooke almost crushed every bone in her body.

“Thank you.” Brooke smiled. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

Brooke released Ariel, taking off in a run, the only thing on his brain one simple sentence.

/I’m coming baby./

/

Nina had the opening scene of Lilo and Stitch playing, the movie one of Nina’s favorites, when Vanjie returned from the shower. Nina had just thrown the first and the best from his dresser at Vanjie, which had turned out to be a Minnie Mouse shirt. Vanjie looked like a child, the fabric reaching his knees, his arms tucked behind his back, even his expression matching the outfit since Vanjie looked like a ten-year-old boy that knew he was in trouble.

Nina held a plate forward, presenting Vanjie with the pizza she’d ordered while Vanjie was showering.

“No burger?” he asked, approaching the bed like an animal with its guard up.

“Lost my lust for it,” Nina didn’t mention how she had dropped it in the hallway when she was trying to keep Vanjie from knocking out Ariel’s fake teeth, not thinking it appropriate for the situation she was trying to defuse. “Want a slice?”

“Mmh,” Vanjie hummed, grabbing a slice and sitting tentatively on the edge of the bed.

It was rather strange. One minute Nina had seen Vanjie out in the hall, about to tear down any and all walls around him, and the next Vanjie was a wounded baby bird in a severely oversized shirt and pyjama shorts that barely stayed up, seemingly afraid of her. Nina gulped down the last bite of her slice, licking her fingers.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Vanjie asked, his voice is infinitely small. Although confused, Nina could feel her heart ache. If Vanjie was here, with her, instead of being with Brooke, something had to be seriously seriously wrong.

“Are you undeserving of someone being nice to you?”

“Right now I am, that’s for fucking sure.” Vanjie half scoffed, half laughed. “When Brock finds my ass, it’ll be even worse. It’s a real fucking tragedy, that’s what it is. Like some greek irony bullshit.”

“You’re hiding from Brooke?” Nina had noticed that she hasn’t seen Vanjie use her phone. The electronic device usually never more than inches away from Vanjie’s hand.

“Why else would I be breaking into Ariel’s room? Just to hang out?” Vanjie laughed, short and crude. “Ain’t nothing good in her room but her collection of highlighters. That shit is intense.”

Nina smiled. “Here.” She had once said on her podcast that dating Vanjie would never be boring, and she hadn’t been proven wrong yet.  “Have some more water.”

Vajie took the bottle, tentatively taking a sip. “I ain’t ready to see his face and hear his mouth tell me how I done fucked up.” Vanjie looked at the pizza, taking another slice with a deep sign. “At least I won’t have to lie about being okay with pineapple on pizza if he breaks up with me.”

Nina wants to be surprised, she really does. But most of all, she’s just confused. “Brooke adores the ground you walk on.”

“Sure bitch.”

“He doe-” A knock on the door interrupts them both, Nina holding her breath as she realised that it had to be Brooke, but Vanjie simply looked at her, almost challenging her to prove that she was right.

/

“.. Are you bleeding?”

Brooke looked at his hand, Nina’s concern so genuine he was surprised for a minute. The white bandage was indeed turning red, his excessive knocking cause the wounds to bleed. Brooke honestly couldn’t find it in himself to care.  “Only a little.”

Nina had opened the door after two knocks, Brooke’s stomach falling in disappointment when he hadn’t come face to face with Vanjie. Nina looked almost strange, the expression on her face one Brooke couldn’t remember he had ever seen before.

Brooke’s skin was itching to know how his boyfriend was doing. He couldn’t hear any noise from the room besides the TV, no obvious signs of a battle meeting his eyes from what he could see behind Nina. No knocked over lamps or coffee machines, no cracked TV screens or broken chairs. It was quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

“Is he still mad?”

Brooke was used to Vanjie’s moods, his partner’s ADHD showing up so differently from Brooke’s own. Vanjie often exploded in fireworks that fizzled away as quickly as they appeared. He felt everything, his feelings magnified and sometimes to the extreme, but sorrow and happiness shining so bright that it was sometimes all consuming.

It wasn’t unusual for Vanjie to go off in fits of rage if he was even slightly provoked, their washing machine at home already replaced once after Vanjie had kicked it for changing the color of his favorite hoodie, not recognizing his own fault until after the machine had broken. The whole thing at the bar had been just as explosive, Vanjie firing off and Brooke’s brain had honestly shut down, the entire thing happening so fast he had barely had time to react, everything afterwards a desperate chase to find Vanjie and make sure he was okay.

“Come check for yourself.”

Nina stepped aside, and Brooke walked in, his heart clenching in relief when he saw him on the bed. Nina had obviously gotten to him, all traces of Vanjie washed off as Jose sat on the bed, hair still wet, in an oversized Minnie Mouse shirt and a half eaten pizza between them.

“Love the new look.”

Brooke watched Vanjie’s face, hoping his joke, however bad, would lighten the mood a little. Nina snorted in the background, and Brooke could just imaging the wry smile on her face.

“So.. That whole thing was..” Brooke ran a hand through his hair. He felt incredibly awkward, Vanjie’s brown eyes watching him like a hawk. Brooke had never been one to investigate after fights, had never cared about anyone enough to make up after a fight. “It was kinda crazy, huh?”

“You don’t seem mad.”

“You lost it. It’s okay.”

Vanjie bit his lip, his eyes finding the number that was still written on Brooke’s arm.

“I know how it looks.” Brooke sighed, pulling down on his sleeve, his injured hand aching. “But I promise nothing happened.”

“It looked like something happened.”

“He lives in New Jersey, and I’m in New York in November. We both wanted to watch Balanchine-”

“Bless you.”

Brooke rolled his eyes. “I didn’t sneeze, it’s a ballet. They’re doing La Sou-”

“I know you didn’t sneeze, I’m not fucking stupid.”

“Well you’re acting like it.”

Brooke realised instantly that he had said the wrong thing, his drunken brain getting the best of him, Vanjie shooting up like a lightning bolt.

“What did you just call me?!”

Brooke looked up. He had to, since Vanjie was standing on the bed, the tiny Puerto Rican taller than himself for once, Nina gasping in the background, and Brooke knew he had to act fast.

“We both know you overreacted.” Brooke reached out for the first time, trying to grab Vanjie’s hips to steady his clearly still angry and tipsy boyfriend. “Jose, can we please just call it a night? Please?”

“Overreacted? Overreacted!” Vanjie shoved Brooke’s hands away, his voice growing even louder. “How ‘bout you look real fucking close, cause you ‘bout to win an Oscar for underreacting! I might have thrown a drink and I might be fucking stupid, but at least I ain’t no fucking eyefucker!

Brooke groaned, his own rage growing. He knew he should be sensible, that he should pull back towards sanity, but he just couldn’t help it. Tequila was one powerful foe. “I haven’t eyefucked anyone!”

“Don’t you lie, I was there when y’all was talking about that fucking book!”

“My hand was /literally/ in your shirt!” Brooke wanted to tear out his hair, his frustration so rich he had completely forgotten Nina was even in the room. “I introduced you as my boyfriend. What more do you want?!”

“For you to realise what that word means and be fucking loyal!”

“Everyone knows I belong to you!” Brooke grapped Vanjie’s shirt, his fist cluthing the fabric, his voice low with venom as he spat. “Should I wear a fucking collar? Would that make you happy?”

Brooke pulled at Vanjie, their faces so close Brooke could feel each breath “Property of Jose Cancel, or is that not recognisable enough for you? Should it be Vanessa Vanjie fucking Mateo instead?!”

It briefly crossed Brooke’s mind that this wasn’t right, that this wasn’t how all those relationship courses on youtube had taught him to deal with an argument, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

If you asked, Brooke wouldn’t be able to tell who moved first, but suddenly they were kissing, Vanjie’s hands in Brooke’s hair, teeth, lips, tongues all crashing together in a thunder of emotion, rage and lust, a battle for dominance that screamed to the sky, neither of them even noticing the door slamming behind them, Nina making a run for it at the first chance she got.

[artificialqueens]

game of survival, chapter twelve: epilogue (branjie) - holtzmanns

AN: If you’ve stuck around to the last chapter of this fic, kudos to you. This is the first multichapter fic that I’ve written and actually finished, and it’s been so much fun. I’ve enjoyed writing it so much, as well as the response to it - if you’ve ever left a review, please know that I’m so grateful for it. This fic is quite literally my first-born child and while I had the outline for it completely planned out before writing it, it took on a life of its own and it’s been such a fun journey. I’m going to miss writing it and miss these versions of Brooke and Vanessa so, so much. Thank you so much for reading. Enjoy the epilogue.

“Congresswoman, mind if I steal you away for a minute for some questions?”

Vanessa turns to whom she presumes is the next reporter waiting to speak to her. “Of course, hello-”

Oh. Not a reporter.

“Hi.” Brooke’s smile is mischievous with a hand on the small of Vanessa’s back, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Vanessa can’t help but grin up at her fiancée, ignoring the camera flashes and the questions that are being yelled at them from just a few feet away. “Hi, baby.”

“Have I mentioned how proud I am of you tonight? Because I’m fucking proud of you.” The way Brooke is beaming down at her makes Vanessa truly believe that she means it.

“Mmm, you may have mentioned it once or twice. Maybe a couple times when the final poll numbers were announced.” She’s so lucky to have had Brooke with her the entire run, both literally and figuratively.

“Winner of the Democratic primary. I had no doubt that you could do it.”

“Is this your way of telling me ‘I told you so’?”

Brooke gasps in mock offence. “Not at all. Okay, maybe a little. I’m glad you went for it now, though. Waiting for another election cycle was smart.”

Vanessa nods. “It would have been a lot tougher on the both of us if I ran four years ago.”

It’s true. Four years ago they had been dating for a year, Vanessa a newly elected congresswoman. It had been a busy time even without considering the fact that it was right before an election year. The congressman who’d ordered the hit on Vanessa had been convicted after a long, seemingly never ending trial. Vanessa had testified, holding enough information back to be as truthful as possible.

Vanessa had also lobbied in congress for Shuga Cain’s release, citing improper police investigation procedures, and secured it. It was something that she’d had long discussions with Brooke about - the woman hadn’t done the crime, and while her family was shadier than a maple tree in the springtime, she didn’t deserve life in prison. Cain’s acquittal was enough to get her family off of Brooke’s back - with no one after her head, she was free.

Not that it had been that easy.

Vanessa had been the first one to go to therapy. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the worries of not only her own death but that of Brooke had piled upon her shoulders brick by brick, torn down the foundations of her resolve which she had to work, really work, to build back up.

Brooke had been harder to convince. Vanessa had known that it would be a difficult battle, a long one, because Brooke was (and still is) used to taking care of herself. Pushing down anything that bothered her, compartmentalizing because she felt as if she had no other choice. Pushing Vanessa away in the process.

A small part of Brooke’s reasoning was that she would never fully be able to be honest with a therapist. Not with her history, her past, her job. But Vanessa had still wanted her to try, to frame it in the context of her detective career.

The many fights, many long discussions before Brooke agreed to try, then stay in therapy had been exhausting for Vanessa, with Brooke no doubt feeling the same. Though even she had admitted one night when they were curled up under the covers and limbs tangled that she was glad for the push, no matter how annoying Vanessa had been about it (Brooke’s choice of words, not hers, thank you very much).

It was something that Brooke had to get used to, Vanessa had noticed, learning to channel her vigilance into her new job.

A job that Brooke’s now held for the last four years - Vanessa’s primary bodyguard, part of her larger security team. After all, the hiring managers had loved Brooke (“You’re good at keeping the bitch from dying,” had been Silky’s glowing review) and her references had checked out (a lot of begging from Vanessa).

A conflict of interest, sure, but who else would Vanessa even have by her side, protecting her? The last few years have been mercifully free of bullets, of hits on her life - something that they’re both thankful for, though it doesn’t stop Brooke from being extra alert, extra careful while she’s on the job.

Not to mention Brooke’s outfits while she’s working. Vanessa knows she has a thing for Brooke in her leather jacket, but Brooke in a fucking suit? She’s pulled her fiancée into too many empty hallways and rooms to count for rushed makeouts, teasing and promises of later. No one’s ever said that she has good self control.

“Happy anniversary, by the way.” Vanessa keeps her voice low, but she wants to scream it from the rooftops. Five years. Five entire fucking years.

“Wrong. Our anniversary was three days ago, and you know it.” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “I happen to remember you greatly enjoying the night we had.”

“Our anniversary is not based on the first time we had sex. It’s based on us talking about being together, when you were in the hospital.” Vanessa pouts. “Celebrating the first time we boned isn’t romantic. But that talk we had felt so right, it fits. It feels official.”

“But we became so much more close to each other after the night we first had sex. Both literally and figuratively.” Brooke winks at her and Vanessa can’t suppress a groan.

“Must we do this every year?”

“It’s part of the fun. Plus, I know how much you secretly love celebrating two anniversaries and the chance to get doubly spoiled.”

“Maybe so.” Vanessa can’t deny it, it is fun. Brooke is too good to her - and with Brooke’s arm around her waist, she thinks for the millionth time that night about how fucking lucky she is.

“I have to go give my speech soon.” Vanessa says it with a mixture of both excitement and regret, because having Brooke on her arm is her favourite feeling in the world, but-

She’s just won the primary . The fucking Democratic primary. And she has an excuse to gloat about it.

“Told you it was smart to memorize it last night.” Brooke’s eyes are sparkling with pride, happiness. It makes Vanessa want to twirl her around, ignoring the fact that she’d have to stand on a chair to be tall enough to do so.

“I just wanted to be sure I was going to win before getting ahead of myself, y’know?” Vanessa has a habit of getting her hopes too high sometimes, and has had to reel it in the last few years in politics. She’s learned to keep her expectations realistic now, and gets to be pleasantly surprised when things work out just the way she wants them to.

“And now you’ve done it, and it’s time to celebrate.” Brooke leans down to kiss her, pulling back for a second before leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I have a surprise for you tonight.”

“Yeah?” Vanessa looks up at the smirk on Brooke’s face, the one that she’s trying to keep from spreading.

“Yeah.” Brooke grabs Vanessa’s hands then, brings them to her hips and oh.

Garters underneath Brooke’s dress, and who knows what else other lingerie that’s peeking out and is that an outline of lace?

“Are you trying to kill me before my speech? Is that what you want to do?” Vanessa mutters it into Brooke’s ear, doesn’t even need to look at her to know how satisfied she is.

“Maybe. You’ll have to wait to find out what else is waiting for you tonight, though.” Brooke’s fingers rake up her sides, keeping it relatively PG because they are in public, after all.

Still. Doesn’t stop Vanessa from wanting to take Brooke into the nearby supply closet and having her way. She’s only human.

“I’m going to go before you leave my brain unable to function, you minx.” Vanessa pulls away as Brooke lets her hand travel a little too far down on her backside which the cameras better not have caught, no ma’am.

“Alright, Madame President.” Brooke’s smile is wicked.

Vanessa swats at her, because Brooke loves to tease her like this way too much. “Hush, we ain’t even close to that at all yet, don’t be putting juju into the universe that may not even happen.”

“Maybe I just really want to be your First Lady.”

“And a beautiful one you will make. Hypothetically, if it happens. But we ain’t saying nothing yet.” Vanessa pictures Brooke on her arm the way she is now, except in the White House, on Presidential visits…she can’t get ahead of herself just yet. No matter what the election year will hold.

“In all seriousness, though, so damn proud of you, Ness. Now go knock them dead while I grab another glass of white and cheer the loudest out of everyone.” Brooke lifts her empty glass and Vanessa snorts because of course she’s gotten through two already.

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.” There’s no hesitation in Brooke’s response, and it makes Vanessa’s heart calm down, relax, before she has to give one of the most exciting speeches of her life.

She has to go find A’keria, smooth over last minute details before she speaks. They have more battles ahead, more races to win in the future, but it doesn’t matter.

With her friends and colleagues and family and Brooke by her side, she’s already won.

[artificialqueens]

Double rainbows are an opportunity to obtain two pots of gold (Branjie)- dexx-ss

a/n: Hi, hello, how are ya? So I was getting a new tattoo today and I wrote this fluffy nonsense and I hope y'all like it <3 ALSO, the title has literally nothing to do with the fic… I just couldn’t think of anything else XD Let me know what y'all think but be kind-xx

“So this is not dumb?” Brooke asks trying to figure out what Nina is thinking by looking at her face.

“Brock this is the cheesiest, cutest, most romantic thing you probably have done in your dumb miserable life,” Nina smiled placing a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder “it’s very José.”.

Brooke couldn’t help but smile at that.

–

It’s been few years since season 11 aired and Brooke and Vanessa have been together and broken up too many times to count on one’s hands. But in the end, they realized they can’t be without each other. And although secretly hooking up and messing with everyone’s heads is fun and all- it still took a lot out of them. So they decided to be together officially and made some ground rules.

–

For Brock, it meant that he had to give up some of his freedom and some of that flirting with strangers(some not all).

For José, it meant he had to give up getting easily jealous sometimes (not all the time) and frat house parties(all of them).

And so far these rules have been working out quite well.

–

Brooke has never been a fan of marriage. Not really. He has always believed that marriage is like the last lifeline. Meaning the only reason people get married is the fact that things are going so badly that you have nothing else left to do to save their relationship. He knew that in some cases it wasn’t true but he also knew that in most cases it was.

They have even talked about that with José. Well talking is not the right word. It was more of yelling and then some very passionate makeup sex later. Brock didn’t care for marriage but José wanted a big white wedding.

–

“So he has no idea it’s coming?” Nina asked while Brooke went to fill their wine glasses. “Well hopefully not,” B said now a kinda concerned look on his face. Brooke had told a few people about it already. Not how he’s going to do it but more of just that he is going to do it. He even went a few decades back and called Josés mom to ask permission.

“Our little firecracker has melted all the ice apparently,” Nina said with a laugh. Brooke just rolled his eyes.

–

Brock even talked to Silky and A’keria about it. Well not willingly. Silky and Brooke were both getting ready for a show and A’keria was randomly chilling with them. At some point, Silky asked if Brooke had some painkillers and B did so he told Silky to look for them from his bag. What he forgot was that Silky is quite nosey and that he bought the ring that day.

“Brooke, is you and Vanjie okay,” Silky asked. “Mhm, why?” Brooke looked at A’keria who was as puzzled as himself. Then Silky took out the ring that was in his bag “wasn’t that supposed to be the last lifeline?”, “Okay, first of all, you shouldn’t go through other peoples stuff,” Brooke said grabbing his bag and the ring back “secondly it’s not like that.”. A’keria raised a questioning brow “You are seriously not thinking about going through with that?”. Brooke didn’t answer to that. He just continued doing his makeup because it didn’t matter what he said A’keria had an opinion about that. (It was always a valid point A’keria gave but sometimes Brooke didn’t wanna hear it because he knew how right he was.). “You are so dumb,” A’keria laughed “like really dumb. That’s probably why Vanjie loves you so much.”.

–

“So it’s happening tonight?” Andrew giggled with excitement. “Well if ya don’t move that cute butt of yours faster and leave then it won’t!” Brook said waving Nina from the front door. As Ninas uber drove off Brooke quickly got back inside and started setting everything up. It had to look really casual.

–

At some point the door swung open “Honey, I’m home!” Vanjie yelled as he stepped inside. He looked around and heard some humming from the kitchen. José made his way there and the sight of Brooke trying to cook warmed his heart. They don’t usually cook, they order something from uber eats or just go out. “So if I eat this” Vanjie said with a smug making his way to his boyfriend “will I have terrible diarrhea?”. Brock jumped a little when José started speaking because he was so in his element and didn’t even realize his boyfriend had gotten home.  He took a towel and playfully slapped Vanjies ass with it “Fuck you,” he said meeting his boyfriend for a kiss.

Vanessa went to take a shower because he still had a full face of makeup on and Brock was really tempted to go with him. But he didn’t. Instead, he set up their plates and waited on a couch trying to pick a movie for them to watch while eating.

The movie watching and eating went great. First, they ate and Vanessa made few comments about how he is going to end up in a hospital with food poisoning. Then they put their plates down and José put his head on Brocks’ lap as they continued to watch the movie. But B couldn’t focus and he was shaking his leg so much when Vanessa tried to talk it sounded like he was driving on a very bumpy road. “Hoe, could- you- stop- that?”, “Sorry,” Brooke said stopping his leg but his boyfriend was already pausing the movie. “What’s up with you?” Vanessa said. Brooke tried to look anywhere but into Josés eyes. He wasn’t particularly chickening out but he was thinking maybe its too soon. But when V cupped his face and made their eyes meet all the doubts were gone. There was no question about it. He loved him. So. Much. So, he kissed him. And promised to be back in a second.

Brooke ran to the bedroom and came back with a book. José just gave him a puzzled look. Brock gave that book to José. “A notebook? Thanks?” Vanessa finally says but Brooke just rolls his eyes. “Open it you dummy,” so he does. He opens the damn notebook.

And

it’s

filled

with

Post-its.

Immediately José’s eyes go blurry from the tears that are coming up. They aren’t just post it. Every post-it has a little scribble. Of a good memory. Or a quote.  One even has the eyes and the detective emoji. It’s so dumb. But so sweet.

“Bitch,” V finally says something after five minutes of looking at the notebook “I can’t use it when it’s all full.”. Brock just laughs at that “Look at the back,”. José does as told. Behind the notebook was written: I’ve never been good at vocally expressing my feelings. So I’m gonna write them down instead.

I woke up today and decided:

I will never love anyone as much as I love you.

I love every part of you. Your smile. Your eyes. The way you get all excited when the cats come onto your lap instead of mine. (José laughs at that part, tears falling) I love how you get angry with me and how you try to make up before going to bed- Because you should never go to bed angry… I love all that’s beautiful about you and all your flaws.

And after thinking all that I realized that I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.

When José looked back at Brock he was holding out a ring. “So umm,” before he could ask anything V was kissing him. “Is that a yes?” Brock said with a smile on his face.

“You didn’t even ask,”

“José Cancel, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?” Brock said with a really bad Brittish accent.

“Yes,” Jose answered pulling the ring from Brock and putting it on his finger.

[artificialqueens]

game of survival, chapter ten (branjie) - holtzmanns

AN: Going away for vacation for a few days (yaaaay) but won’t have wifi (boooo), so here’s an update before I go! Bean and Writ are the most wonderful friends and betas that a girl could ask for. This fic would not be what it is without the two of them.

(read on ao3) | (find me at plastiquetiaras)

“Fucking relax, girl.”

A’keria’s hand makes soothing motions on Vanessa’s thigh, trying to calm her down from the way that she can’t stop trembling. She wants to smack her hand away in response, because how can she relax?

She can’t. 

It’s been approximately two hours since someone tried to kill them. Shot Brooke. Since the police showed up at the cabin, sirens blazing and weapons up and A’keria and Silky tagging along behind them. Since Silky whispered a cover story into her ear before she climbed into the ambulance that held Brooke, watched as her faux serene face became paler and paler. 

Two hours ago. She’s been sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting room of the trauma wing for two hours after watching a team in scrubs whisk Brooke away on a stretcher, her limp hand falling off the side. 

Vanessa has already talked to the detectives covering the case from the same waiting room chair when they came over to sit across from her, notebooks and pens in hand. She explained what happened. Not the full truth, not quite, as that would have done no good for anybody. 

But an abridged version concocted by her team, because what else are politicians good at other than twisting truths to create a more palatable story? Brooke, she told the police, she had hired for private security. Vanessa had threats on her life that became more severe as time passed. She had been at her campaign headquarters one night, only to hear news of men being gunned down in her very own apartment. So she went with her bodyguard for a few days to a safer location, until police back in her home district could catch the killers after her. What her and her bodyguard didn’t expect, however, was to be blindsided at their cabin. Truly an unfortunate situation, and Vanessa was oh so lucky that her bodyguard had been amazing at her job, saved her life. 

Recounting this version of events to the detectives had felt like poison coming off of her tongue. She’s good at twisting the truth, telling people what they want to hear. But this version doesn’t describe how amazing, how selfless Brooke is. Then again, maybe it’s better not to draw more attention to her in the first place. 

Let the police think that Brooke just went into private security after leaving the force. 

Silky’s already gotten someone on her team to draft up fake contracts, fake paperwork of Vanessa hiring Brooke as a bodyguard. Her team is nothing if not efficient. She’s glad, because at this moment she’s not sure if she can do anything but sit in the god awful plastic chair and try to keep herself together. 

It’s proving to be difficult.

She hasn’t broken down yet which is a miracle in itself, considering how much she’s guided by her emotions, by her heart. But half of her heart has been taken away from her, lying in an operating room under unforgiving lights, surrounded by surgeons and nurses. Vanessa isn’t going to allow herself to feel until one of them comes out to tell her that Brooke is okay.

Schrödinger’s operating room, is what it is. 

The door of the waiting room slams when it opens and it makes Vanessa flinch, nearly jump in her seat. She pulls her legs up onto the chair, wanting to curl in on herself. The sweater that A’keria had grabbed for her earlier (one without bloodstains on it, Brooke’s blood) is scratchy on her arms, but she pulls her hands inside the sleeves. 

She doesn’t want to look at the blood that is still caked underneath her fingernails and just wouldn’t come off in the hospital bathroom, no matter how much she had scrubbed her fingers raw. It’s a reminder of how Brooke has saved her life yet again, put herself in front of the line of fire that is always meant for Vanessa.

Brooke’s blood is literally and figuratively on Vanessa’s hands. Her doing.

She wants to disappear. 

“Kiki and I are going to the cafeteria. Need some food or I’m gonna waste away in this holding room. Want anything?” Silky’s voice feels far away, not like it’s coming from right beside her.

“No. Not hungry.” She wants to go back to eating trail mix with Brooke. That’s all.

“You need to eat something, baby, To keep yourself going.” A’keria’s voice is laced with concern, and it makes Vanessa slide down in her chair just a little bit.

“Go, you two. I’m fine.” Maybe having less voices around her will be helpful, make her brain stop screaming at her.

She doesn’t get a chance to explore such an option, though. No sooner do A’keria and Silky get up, both already on their business phones as they leave the room, does a stranger fall down into the chair beside her. 

The first thing that Vanessa notices about the woman is her lankiness as she props up a leg against her chair, limbs folding into the enclosed space as if it’s something that she’s quite used to doing. A detective badge hanging off of a chain catches the light when she lifts up a hand to run it over her buzzed head.

“Who are you?” Is this Yvie? It looks like it could be her, from the descriptions that Brooke has given Vanessa in the past. 

“You must be the famous Vanessa.” The woman tilts her head when she looks at her like she’s studying her, and Vanessa has to fight not to flinch against her gaze.

“Who’s asking?” She’s a little on edge, sure, but the woman doesn’t seem bothered.

“Yvie.” So it is her. “I’ve seen you on TV, girl, you’re not hard to recognize.” Yvie laughs then, and it’s the strangest sound that Vanessa’s ever heard in her life. But one that makes her crack a smile nonetheless, her first one since the sirens started blaring in her mind earlier in the day, only to never stop.

Brooke likes her, so she must not be too bad. 

“Are you here to question me, too?” She’s not sure what version of events she should give Yvie - the abridged story, or the real thing, considering the fact that Yvie’s been helping Brooke the entire time.

“Nah. You’re going through it, so am I. So is Brooke. Let her heal up first, then we can talk.” Yvie pauses. Smirks. “Besides, I’ve already talked to your campaign manager. Fully on board with this…testimony.”

Damn. A’keria spilled the beans to Yvie already? 

Yvie lets out another laugh at Vanessa’s expression, which is doing nothing to hide her reaction. “We’re keeping the story consistent, girl. I’m on your side. Bring your hackles down a little.”

Vanessa bristles, because who is this woman to tell her to calm down? But then Yvie grabs her hand. “Look. I know you’re overwhelmed by all of this shit right now. I get it. She’s gotten through a lot over the years. She may very well get through this, too.”

Vanessa deflates, and can’t help how small her voice comes out in response. “She has to.”

Yvie turns to her, squeezes her hand. “We were real shit starters as detectives together, did you know?” 

“Yeah?” Vanessa looks up at Yvie’s question, looks at the woman whose face seems to be travelling back in time, reliving old memories. 

“Yeah. Barely experienced enough to have made detective and we stomped into that boys’ club like we owned the place. We wanted to prove that we not only belonged there, but were better than them.”

Vanessa imagines a younger and more fiery detective version of Brooke, stepping on everyone’s toes and not caring in the least because she got her work done and then some.  

“We’d have a great time doing the stupidest things to crack cases, make arrests. One time, we were gunning to get into gambling club to find a dangerous perp - the club was known for its exclusivity, hidden in the underbelly of the city. The captain was very much us against doing that, wanted us to wait for a warrant.” She grins. “We very much didn’t listen.”

“Brooke brought in two of the skimpiest dresses I’d ever seen, told me to change into one. We rolled up the the club like we belonged there, like we had less than two braincells but had our respective men who were playing poker inside.” Yvie snorts. “Somehow the bouncers let us in, and we came out with the guy without so much as a gun pulled on us from his bodyguards.”

“Damn.” Vanessa lets out a laugh. She can picture Brooke so well, fearless and acting her little heart out until she got close enough to arrest the guy. “No fear, huh?”

Yvie leans back in her chair. “Memories. It was fun. The two of us were solely responsible for how fast our captain at the time went grey. We gave him so many heart attacks, but also solved cases, so who was he to complain?” 

“Y’all seem like you were nightmares. Complete nightmares. I love it.” She wonders how a detective version of Brooke was on the day to day, with less scars and baggage pulling her down, down, down. If she was just as driven, if she was more naive. It’s strange to think about. 

Nonetheless, she’s glad that she has her version of Brooke. The one who’s gone through so much, yet continues to be so caring and thoughtful and ready to work through her own shit.

Well. Not exactly her Brooke, no matter how bad Vanessa wants her to be. There’s too much going on and she also may be dead on the other side of the operating room wall and-

She lets out a breath, trying to ignore the lump in her throat.

Things would be so much easier if they were other people, any other people. Maybe two women who met at a coffee shop, or were coworkers, or went to the same gym. With mundane lives and simple jobs and maybe some pets, who lived near each other and whose biggest worries would have been about what they would make for dinner.

Vanessa imagines coming home to Brooke - no, she and Brooke coming home at the same time after a late day, shedding their work clothes and putting on comfy pyjamas. Curling up on the couch and watching a movie together. A life where there would be no bullets, no one after their lives, no money over their heads. The tug in her heart for it is so strong that she feels like it’s going to rip out of her chest.

Maybe they’ll have it. One day. 

If Brooke survives through the night first. 

Vanessa’s head snaps up when a surgeon pushes the door open and strides into the waiting room. Sure, it’s probably a false alarm, like the other doctors and nurses who have walked in to talk to other people about patients who are not Brooke. But she can’t help but hope.

But then the surgeon calls out “Family of Brooke Lynn Hytes?” and Vanessa’s out of her chair, stumbling, following her blindly out of the room to an empty hallway because fuck, finally.

The surgeon’s face betrays nothing about Brooke’s condition, perfectly neutral as she waits for the others to catch up to them (Vanessa may or may not have run to get out of her seat). Vanessa wants to fucking yell. 

“She’s okay.”

She’s okay.

The two words are enough to nearly knock her over, the weight of them too much to take because she’s okay, Brooke is okay. 

Vanessa feels A’keria’s arm around her waist, holding her up, there’s more words that the surgeon is saying and that the others are nodding in response to but she can’t hear them, not that it matters because Brooke is okay .

“Can we see her?” She blurts out the words before she can even think about holding them back, cups a hand over her mouth when she accidentally interrupts what the surgeon is saying.

The surgeon turns to her, mouth turning up when Vanessa mouths ‘sorry’. “Ms. Hytes has just been transferred to the ICU. She’s still in post operative recovery and needs close monitoring over the next few hours, so it would be best if only one of you were to go.” The surgeon pauses. “I’m guessing that will be you?”

Vanessa winces, gives her a sheepish expression. “How’d you guess? Wait, don’t answer that.”

Nonetheless, she’s on the surgeon’s heels shortly afterwards, following the woman past a maze of inpatient wings and hallways and medical professionals in scrubs and lab coats. She’s not sure which direction they’re going in or how she’s going to get out of this labyrinth but she doesn’t care, she’s not going to leave Brooke once she reaches her. Not going to happen.

The surgeon finally stops outside of a room, starts talking to the nurse in the doorway but Vanessa barely notices, because Brooke.

There’s a tube down her throat and an IV coming out of her arm and so many wires across her body with monitors that beep too loud, but she’s alive. 

Brooke is alive.

Her eyes are still closed, still making it look like she’s asleep but she looks so small in the bed, dwarfed by the tubes around her body that look like they’re about to suffocate her. The urge to just grab Brooke, pull her out and take her away to somewhere safe, somewhere no one can harm her is so strong that Vanessa has to ball her hands into fists and remind herself that Brooke is exactly where she should be right now.

Still, the knowledge that there’s absolutely nothing she can do right now to help Brooke makes Vanessa angrily blink away a tear. She hates it.

She wishes it were her in the bed. It should be her. 

Brooke’s hair is still in its braid from the morning, albeit a bit mussed on her pillow. Vanessa steps closer, tentatively, brushes a piece away that’s in front of her face. A nurse behind her pulls up a chair, and it’s just as well because she collapses into it as she calls out a thank you. Her legs aren’t quite working anymore.

The rise and fall of Brooke’s chest is unnatural, mechanical as it’s controlled by the ventilator that gives her oxygen, helps her to breathe. It reminds Vanessa of when she was 8 years old, after her abuela had a stroke and her whole family came to the hospital to see her.  Vanessa had been so confused, back then, as to why her abuela wouldn’t just wake up, start talking. The comparison feels too erie, too familiar, because her abuela never did. 

Vanessa can feel the lump in her throat becoming harder and harder to ignore, impossible to swallow down. She’s held on for so long, didn’t want to break down in front of anyone but now that it’s just her and Brooke, it feels like she has no strength left to do so anymore. 

She hasn’t had a person in a long time. Can she call Brooke that, her person, after knowing her for such a short period, and in such fucked up circumstances? She wants to. 

She wonders if Brooke would feel the same way. 

It feels cruel to find someone then lose them so quick to circumstances outside of both of their control, out of their doing. She wants to yell, scream, do anything to bring Brooke back from the haze of sedation that she’s under, to know for sure that she’s going to be okay.

Vanessa had to get used to hiding her sexuality in the public eye (‘for now’, Ra’jah had said, ‘until you’re elected’) and had shut down that part of herself from others, put it away, focusing on her career and on getting as far as possible. But then Brooke came and dismantled everything that Vanessa had carefully constructed and she can’t even be mad about it now, not when the demolition had felt so satisfying. 

Vanessa wants to know Brooke more, every part of her - what makes her laugh, what her favourite TV shows are (other than Schitt’s Creek, which she’s already promised her that she will watch in the future), more about her two cats. What her favourite date activity is. More stories about her shenanigans with Yvie. She wants a promise, a whisper of a future with Brooke. Don’t they deserve as much after all this, after what they’ve been through?

Vanessa reaches out, squeezes Brooke’s hand with two of her own. It’s limp in her grasp, cold even when she tries to warm it in her hands. The hole in her chest feels like it’s growing, caving in on her because Brooke has survived the surgery, being shot, but it feels as if she’s still barely holding on.

Even when the nurses come by and tell her to go take a walk, grab some food, she doesn’t let go. She can’t. 

 Bright. Too bright, too loud. Beeping noises that feel like jackhammers on her skull. She wants it to stop, she wants everything to stop. 

Where are Cain’s men? Are they here too? Did they manage to kill her? 

Where’s Vanessa? 

Brooke tries to call out her name but her mouth is too dry, and there’s something stuck in her throat and feels like it’s choking her from the inside out. A tube. She wants to pull it out, but her hands feel too far away, too difficult to lift up. 

The fog in her peripheral starts to take over, a grey that clouds her vision and becomes impossible to ignore. Everything, thankfully, seems to fade away. 

The second time Brooke wakes, she sees her. Vanessa. Hovering behind a nurse who’s holding a tube and was that what was down her throat?

But it doesn’t matter. Vanessa is there, and okay, and is she crying? Brooke doesn’t want Vanessa to cry. 

Brooke tries to say Vanessa’s name, say anything at all but no sound comes out, and her throat hurts too much to try a second time. She wants to tell her about Cain and who’s behind everything because she’s figured it out, she knows that Cain’s family teamed up with the congressman. Tried to take them both out. 

But words aren’t coming out of her mouth, and Vanessa is crying and she wants to reach out to her, soothe her, wipe the tears that are streaming down her cheeks because she doesn’t want Vanessa to be hurt. Her arms are too heavy to lift, and maybe it’s okay if she sleeps again, tells Vanessa later. When her throat doesn’t hurt and her body doesn’t feel like lead. 

The third time that Brooke wakes up, she doesn’t move right away. She opens her eyes, stares at the fluorescent lights above her. Listens to the beeping of machines coming from both her left and right. The last thing that she remembers is the cabin, Vanessa diving on top of her and pain in her chest, but-

She’s not at the cabin. She’s in a hospital. Seems to be the most likely scenario. 

She’s been shot, then. Can’t really recall much else. But then where’s Vanessa? Was she shot too? She lifts her head from the bed, ignoring the sudden spinning of the room around her because no, no no, Brooke’s supposed to keep her safe, she can’t lose her-

She’s beside her. Vanessa. Curled up on a plastic chair, feet tucked underneath her, cheek resting on her hand. 

Sleeping. 

Brooke hears the beeps around her slow down, back to a normal rhythm along with the beating of her heart as it regulates. Vanessa is safe. Alive.

She’s alive. 

Brooke tries to reach out to her because she’s okay but the IV in her arm tugs, sends a shot of pain through her forearm. It creates a domino effect, and suddenly Brooke is hyperaware of every sensation in her body. The spinning of her head, the grey in her vision. The pain that previously hovered above her like a cloud now permeating everywhere, carving a hole into her chest and collarbone and shoulders and it hurts. 

She wants to make it stop, but doesn’t know how. She doesn’t realize that a whimper leaves her mouth until she hears it in the small space and Vanessa’s up, out of her chair and all signs of sleep gone. 

Vanessa’s above her and suddenly she’s the only thing that Brooke can focus on, her waves around her face and her eyes that look a little teary and her voice, uncharacteristically soft, whispering “it’s okay, baby, you’re okay.”

She must be okay, then. Brooke trusts Vanessa. 

Vanessa’s fingers are running through her hair and it feels nice, distracts her from the pain rippling throughout the rest of her body. 

Maybe her voice will come out now. She can try. 

“Hi.” It’s quiet, crackly, scratches at her throat. 

Vanessa lets out a sound in response that sounds like a squeak, or a cry, like a dying animal. “Hi, honey.”

Vanessa’s hand in her hair shifts to her cheek and Brooke leans into it instinctively. The warmth of Vanessa’s palm, her fingers, feels like it calms the trembling in Brooke’s body, makes everything stop shaking as much. The pain is still there but she can handle it, manage it, with Vanessa in front of her.

“You’re okay. Thank God.” Her voice feels so quiet, too quiet. 

Vanessa hears it though, by the slight sob that leaves her throat in response. “Yeah, I am. I’m good, baby. You need to stop getting shot on me, though. This is the second time. Can’t have it turning into a habit.”

Oh, yeah. She had forgotten about the graze on her shoulder, which she’d stopped bandaging a few days ago because it had seemed to be healing well enough. A papercut when compared to this, the bullet that has ripped through her chest. 

“I’d never been shot until I met you, y’know, so thanks for that.” Brooke grins, no malice behind her words - she’d get shot again and again if it means that she can save Vanessa’s life.

But her words don’t have the intended effect of making Vanessa smile, her face instead crumpling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should have-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Does Vanessa blame herself? She shouldn’t, she’s safe and alive and that’s all that matters, at least to Brooke. “Thank fuck you didn’t get hit. I never would have forgiven myself.”

Vanessa sniffles, moves to squeeze her hand. Brooke squeezes back, tugs on Vanessa’s hand until she looks back up at her. “You have great things ahead of you. A future as a congresswoman, maybe a White House run and becoming leader of the free world? Everyone needs you.”

I need you.

Vanessa looks like she wants to argue, protest her words but then there’s commotion in the hallway, and is that Yvie at the door? Followed by two women that seem incredibly familiar, but whose faces she can’t quite place.

“Goddamn Brooke, do you always have to be so dramatic in everything that you do?” Yvie’s come around her other side, hugging her and squeezing too tight but she lets go just as quick.

“Nice to see you too.” Brooke sees Yvie’s eyes looking wet, files that information away to lovingly tease her over later. 

She shifts her gaze, then, to the other two women who wear matching expressions of wariness on their faces. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m-”

“We know exactly who you are, Brooke Lynn Hytes.” The taller woman fixes her with a gaze, and Brooke’s not sure how to react at the use of her full name. “Good thing you already incapacitated or we would be having some words right now.”

“Aw c’mon A’keria, Silky, let her be.” Vanessa’s voice cuts through as her fingers trace patterns on Brooke’s palm. “She saved my life. Again.”

Oh. Brooke realizes where she remembers them from. Weeks and weeks ago, from when she was first staking out Vanessa and was still planning a hit on her. She had seen them in the office, seen them around Vanessa. Her campaign manager and deputy campaign manager. The realization is startling, at first.

Was that really her, back then, only a few weeks ago? It feels like a lifetime, when she had different goals and priorities before everything was flipped upside down thanks to the woman currently squeezing her hand. 

How have they ended up here?

Nonetheless, her manners win out, and she smiles at them. “Nice to meet you.” 

They don’t return it, fixing her with narrowed looks. The shorter woman - A’keria - lets out a disgruntled noise.

“Don’t mind them. They’re still a little salty about the whole hit you had on me, originally. But then she saved my life like three times,” she says the last sentence a little louder, directing it at Silky and A’keria, “So it cancels out, right? Like BEDMAS.” 

Yvie lets out a guffaw beside her as A’keria rubs at her temples. “Vanj, do you even remember 10th grade math at all? How is it BEDMAS? Wait, never mind. Not important.”

Vanessa is unperturbed. “Point is, I probably would have been dead right now if it wasn’t for Brooke. So y’all owe her a thanks that this campaign is even still going.”

A’keria pauses at that, turning towards Brooke. Brooke can see A’kieria studying her face, as if she’s trying to look for anything hidden. Not that Brooke has anything to hide at all, right now. Other than the fact that she really, really, could use more painkillers.

A’keria seems satisfied with what she sees. Nice to know that she has her approval. “Thank you, for that. Keeping her alive.”

It seems weird to be thanked for it, unnecessary even, when she’d do it again in an instant. “Of course.” She shrugs, wincing when pain shoots down her shoulder.

Vanessa’s up then, in the hall before Brooke can even blink, yelling for a nurse and most definitely waking up other patients. Though it does the job, her charge nurse bounding into the room and injecting painkillers in her IV. Brooke can’t help but shoot Vanessa a grateful smile, only for Vanessa to return it and place a kiss on her forehead. 

“They always this gross?” While Silky’s voice is a whisper in A’keria’s ear, it’s loud enough to carry throughout the room.

“Watch it!” Vanessa’s voice is a foghorn, and makes Brooke laugh. She’s not sure if she’ll ever tire of it. 

It’s nice. The painkillers are settling in by the way that her body feels lighter, hazier. Everything feels nice. 

Too nice.

She’s missing something.

It doesn’t take long to rush back - the men, their ambush, and she’s gasping, looking up at Vanessa and Yvie because fuck, are they even safe? Do they need to go?

“I know who’s after Vanessa, who’s after me, who’s behind it, they’re probably still coming-” Her breaths are shallow, she can’t breathe, why isn’t anyone else freaking out?

“Hey, hey. We know, baby.” Vanessa’s voice is soothing, calm. How can she be calm?

“What?” Brooke looks up at her, trying to read her face but she can’t tell what Vanessa isn’t saying. Her mind feels too slow, too lethargic. 

“That’s how these three doofuses tracked those guys to the cabin and to us, with the local PD backup. Found ‘em just in time.” 

No, Vanessa’s not getting it, the men were more than just random thugs, disposable pawns. It was planned, both of their demises were planned, and almost happened. 

Brooke tugs on Vanessa’s hand, looks up at her and Yvie. Both of them appear alarmed at how agitated she is, how her heart monitor seems to be speeding up but it’s important. But before either of them can say anything, she feels the exhaustion hit.

She’s tired. Really tired, and Vanessa’s tracing patterns on her palm and she can’t do it anymore. She can feel the fight leave her like a balloon, feel the drowsiness hit and it’s definitely the painkillers. Superb timing.

Brooke wants to keep talking, but sleep feels easier as it takes over her vision, colours her sight. 

She hopes they can stay alive for one more day, at least, enough for her to explain and for them to find a way to be safe, consider a counter attack even. But for now, she’s too tired. She falls into dreams of Vanessa instead, the way her dimples become even more prominent when she laughs. Her subconscious has priorities and for once, Brooke isn’t upset at what it has chosen to broadcast.

[artificialqueens]

game of survival, chapter 2/? (branjie) - holtzmanns

AN: Fic title taken from the song Game of Survival by Ruelle. I love music way too much and may or may not have created a playlist to go with this fic - here’s the link for anyone who wants to listen.

Vanessa Mateo doesn’t falter. Not after fighting tooth and nail to get where she is, facing off against rivals that are both literally and figuratively larger than her while never once backing down.  

Watching the flames eat away at the walls of her office, however, tearing them down in a cloud of smoke and ashes, is enough to start to shake the strong foundations that she’s created for herself.

Her team is here, a flurry of movement and panicked calls and whizzing around her like flies while trying to figure out what to do. Someone (A’keria?) who is able to actually function in crisis has called 911. A myriad of firetrucks and police cars are already here with firefighters suiting up to confront the blaze that has started to spread to the building beside it.

Vanessa is glad that those around her are doing something, at least. She still hasn’t moved from her spot on the sidewalk. Her brain feels grey, all static and buzzing noises that are blocking any rational thoughts.

“Okay. Run me through it again. What exactly happened?” A’keria’s voice cuts through the fog, her campaign manager ever persistent and looking for some sort of answer. Not that Vanessa has one to give to her.

“I don’t fucking know, okay?” Vanessa’s voice comes out snappier than intended, if A’keria’s raised eyebrow is indicative of anything. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “All I know is that it blew up in front of my face and I only just missed becoming toast with it.”

A’keria’s face softens, hearing the slight break in Vanessa’s voice. Her hand is on Vanessa’s shoulder, as reassuring as she can be with the woman who is in charge of her paycheck. “We’ll figure this out. Silky is already on the phone to get more security because we’re going to need it on you 24/7 - don’t even try to argue with me.”

Vanessa huffs but doesn’t fight back. She’s been fiercely independent throughout this campaign, and the idea of continuous supervision makes her want to run and never leave her apartment again. However, she can’t deny that it’s necessary - not with the crackling noises of an office now turned to blackened dust continuing to echo in her ears.

A police detective grabs Vanessa as soon as A’keria turns away from her. “Just one more time ma’am, can you explain what happened? Working on getting this timeline straight.”

His reedy voice makes her wince. She tries her best to hold back the choice words that she so desperately wants to let out - the ones that she can’t freely express to anyone who’s not on her team, now that she’s running for office. Still needing to portray a wholesome image and all that.

Vanessa takes a deep breath, attempting to compose herself. She flashes the detective a polite smile: her ‘political’ face as A’keria calls it.

She’s gotten better at keeping her emotions in check as the campaign has continued, moving the heart that she normally keeps on her sleeve into a safer space inside of her mind. Her team has been grateful for it, having to intervene with less and less damage control as she’s stopped being completely honest with whomever she feels has wronged her in any way. She’s starting to feel like a rich white woman, slowly learning how to get what she wants with fake niceties and smiles that mask the true emotions that she holds back.   

Vanessa is honest with the detective for the most part, recalling the sped up walk to work after the longer than normal lineup at the coffee shop that morning. She falters, though, when she remembers the wild eyed woman that she had spilled her coffee on.

The one who barely noticed the spill and instead pulled Vanessa close and shielded her from falling debris when the office exploded. The one who disappeared right afterwards, like a fucking blonde and tall fairy godmother that Vanessa now feels like she’s imagined the entire time.

But she hasn’t, right? The woman had been real and there. Or at least, Vanessa thinks she was.

The detective clicks his pen while waiting for her to finish, the incessant noise making her eye twitch. Vanessa has to hold back the sharp words about to roll off of her tongue that so desperately want to tell the man to shut the fuck up.

“I’m sorry Detective, that’s all that happened, really. I was walking to work and it blew up in front of me. I’m just so relieved that none of my team was there, it could have ended so much worse.” The diplomatic answer rolls off of her tongue so smoothly that she almost believes it herself.

Vanessa doesn’t know why she holds back on mentioning the woman - she can easily describe her to the police and give them a potential lead. But something is off. The woman doesn’t fit in the picture. The way she grabbed Vanessa was as if she knew the explosion was about to happen, sure. But then why would she protect her?

The detective fixes Vanessa with a stare, searching her eyes for any evidence that she’s lying. He doesn’t find it, judging by the way he thanks her and turns back to his notes.

She lets out a breath, turning her gaze back towards the building. Or at least, where it used to stand. She knows she’s lucky, that the team is lucky. They didn’t lose data; backups of plans and budgets and work for the campaign saved online in the cloud.

Still, she’s now lost her base in an explosion that definitely was not an accident. She almost lost her life.

Her run for congress is her baby - it’s what she’s been working towards for almost her entire adult existence. Years of dead-end jobs, living paycheck to paycheck on meagre wages, waiting for her turn to burst onto the scene and make an impression. This year has finally been her chance.

It’s clear, though, that someone doesn’t want it to happen. She’s big enough of a threat.

Part of her wants to run, to quit the race with her tail between her legs and go back to a life of anonymity. Vanessa pushes the thoughts down. She doesn’t falter. She hasn’t in the past, and she won’t now. Good fucking luck to anyone trying to stop her.

When Silky hangs up the phone and comes up to her to provide more details around her extra security, Vanessa doesn’t argue. She can handle some suits surrounding her in order to keep pushing forward. Let the bastards who attempted to kill her try again. She doesn’t go down that easy.

Maybe the blonde will reappear, saving her life once more. At least she’ll be able to catch her fucking name next time.

The next few days are chaos as they’re caught up in a media storm, her publicist Ra’jah fielding never ending calls from news outlets that need Vanessa’s perspective on the attempt on her life. Vanessa provides diplomatic statements in interviews, droning on about how grateful she is for the public’s support and how she’s more committed than ever to the campaign.

Vanessa sits back on a couch as A’keria directs the various team members and volunteers assembled in the latter’s living room, which over a few days has transformed into makeshift campaign headquarters. She’s willing to let her campaign manager take the lead for now and get them moving forward. She’s fucking exhausted.

Silky drops onto the couch next to Vanessa after A’keria finishes speaking, nearly knocking files out of her hands.

“Jesus, Silky.”

Silky ignores her and instead gestures to two men in suits that are standing in front of them. “These are the lovely knights in shining armour who will be part of your security detail. Hopefully they’ll keep you from going kaboom.”

Vanessa’s mouth turns up in a wry smile. Silky may be crass, but she is funny. The dark humour feels necessary at a time like this, and it’s something that her college friend and now deputy campaign manager is always able to channel.

Vanessa sticks out a hand for each of them to shake, to which they oblige without any change in facial expression. Both have handshakes that could stand to be stronger. Not quite off to the best start.

“If you try to run from them, I will come after your ass. So behave.“

Vanessa snorts at Silky’s faux threatening tone. “Why, you don’t think that they can keep up with me?”

“No, I think they can. I just think that you’re too good at getting yourself into…explosive situations.” Silky wiggles her eyebrows as Vanessa grabs for a couch cushion and smacks her with it. “Ow, bitch!”

“God Silk, still too fucking soon.” Silky is the only person that Vanessa wouldn’t immediately fire for such a stupid and morbid pun. “You’re alive, aren’t you?” Silky ducks the next time that Vanessa lifts up the cushion. “Ha, missed that time. Anyway, let these nice men follow you around. The only time, actually, that you should let men follow you around.”

Vanessa tries to ignore the men indeed close behind her as she heads home from A’keria’s place a couple of hours later. She regrets walking instead of taking an Uber, the crowds on the busy downtown street positively stifling as she keeps her head down and pushes through them.

She needs sleep. Or maybe a bath. Perhaps both, to prepare for the press conference that Ra’jah has scheduled for her tomorrow. Vanessa can already hear Ra’jah’s voice in her ears berating her for inevitably losing her temper at a journalist. It happens at least once every time, no matter how hard she works to keep her emotions in check. It’s what the public loves, though, her ability to call others out when she needs to.

Sure, it’s made her quite a few enemies. But none of them have tried to kill her…Oh, wait.

Vanessa has to hold in a snicker while coming up to a busy intersection. Silky’s stupid sense of humour is starting to rub off on her.

She wonders if she should feel more afraid, rather than immediately jumping to gallows-esque jokes. Shouldn’t she be worried about her safety, after almost getting killed?

Vanessa knows she’s not invincible. She knows her size, and that there are bigger dogs out there who could probably crush her if they wanted to - both literally and figuratively. She’s not stupid.

It doesn’t mean she has to give in, though, to fear and anxiety and worry about those trying to intimidate her. Sure, the consequences are higher than a simple school bully trying to push her into a locker. She’s just not ready to go down without a fight.

She just needs a plan, her team can’t only be on the defensive, they need to show their strength-

A woman. Tall, blonde. Separated from Vanessa by a few people on the sidewalk.

The woman turns her head as she reaches into her bag, side profile instantly recognizable. Vanessa’s seen that face, she knows that face-

“Wait! You!”

The woman freezes for a second before she turns her face away abruptly, disappearing into the crowd. She’s fast. But so is Vanessa.

Apologies tumble from her lips as she pushes her way through the overcrowded sidewalk, leaving her security detail behind as she tries to follow the blonde ponytail that’s so painfully close, only a few meters if she could just reach-

“What the hell?”

The woman is gone. Vanessa looks around wildly as she tries to catch her breath, stretching up on her toes and straining her neck because there’s no way the woman could have disappeared that fast without a trace. She saw her - the same woman who she spilled her fucking coffee on and who grabbed her during the blast and then disappeared without a trace, vanishing into nothing. Just like now. Vanessa’s sigh in frustration is strangled.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” The two men acting as her security detail catch up to her, trying and failing to hide their wheezing breaths.

She brushes them off. “I’m fine. Did you see…have you seen…never mind.”

There’s no point. She’s gone again. Vanishing like a fucking ghost who has developed a penchant for stalking her.

Vanessa had started to doubt her memories about the woman the more she thought about her, if she even existed at all. The office explosion had happened early in the morning after all; maybe she had been half asleep and still dreaming.

Standing stock still at a busy intersection and ignoring the small crowd forming (“Is that Vanessa Mateo?” ) as she cranes her neck and tries in vain to spot her, Vanessa comes to three conclusions.

One: the woman is real, not just a fabrication of her mind attempting to make sense of the explosion.

Two: she’s fucking involved in this whole mess, there’s no doubt. Vanessa needs to find out how.

Three: for the second time, she had been nearly in Vanessa’s reach, so tantalizingly close.

Vanessa needs to get to her.

All she can think about is the flick of the woman’s blonde hair, the long legs with the infuriating ability of helping her escape not once, but twice.

She ignores the rational part of her brain that is screaming at her about safety and having others involved for backup. The woman fucking saved her life, for Christ’s sake. She wouldn’t kill her. Or at least, not right away. Vanessa is good at talking herself out of situations.

Besides, this time, she’s going to have a plan.

Two can play at this game.  

“What the hell are you setting up a camera for?” A’keria’s voice is tired as she looks at Vanessa, who is fiddling with the device outside A’keria’s apartment building.

Vanessa doesn’t look up as she positions the camera between the leaves of a flower arrangement. “Just being careful, is all.”

“Don’t be getting all paranoid on me.”

“What’s wrong with some extra security?”

“Look.” Akeria’s face softens. “We’ve got you, okay? We’re not going to have a repeat of the office anytime soon if we can help it.”

Vanessa nods, waving her off. She ignores the sigh that she can hear falling from A’keria’s lips as she walks away.

Perhaps it’s a blessing that A’keria is mistaking her behaviour as a reaction to the explosion of the office. How the hell is she supposed to explain that she’s trying to catch a woman who has been haunting not only her thoughts, but her whereabouts too?

She didn’t tell A’keria about the woman after the explosion either, the same way she didn’t tell the police detective. Her brain had been too fuzzy to do so at the time, and each passing day makes her want to keep the situation to herself.

A’keria wouldn’t get it. She’d tell Vanessa that her mind is playing tricks on her, that the woman on the street afterwards was just a lookalike. That there is no way there is something fishy about her.

So what if Vanessa wants to keep it to herself? She doesn’t need a team to fucking find out what is happening once and for all. She’s going to find out on her own, and has all the backup she already needs. The woman isn’t going to know what hit her - quite literally.

Find me at @plastiquetiaras.