Canon AU ~ Clarice and Bill beginning

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Owwwwwwww...

There was a flash of magenta light and the shadow of a woman flying through the air at a rather high speed. What world had it been? 739? Mutants Everywhere Planet, let's stop a serial killer because the Talus said so planet.

A super powered serial killer who had been rather hard to hit, much less hurt, especially with the team down several members. She'd been able to create an opening, at cost, for the others to take, but now, well, she was bleeding. And dizzy. And oh, that was a knife in her shoulder, huh, what if teh cops had needed that for evidence..

...right back on track. The talus had flashed, they'd been getting ready to leave and the partner, the killers partner that the Talus had told them NOTHING about had come careening in with a scream. Her lower arm ached, dully. and trailed more blood from where she'd lost the Talus. It had been ripped away and she'd been shoved through a half-formed portal. Not a fun ride.

By the time she tumbled to a halt she couldn't tell left from right, much less what world she was on. There could have been snipers in the trees and giant mutant snakes rearing to strike at her and she'd have just said 'Wha?'. She was...hitched up against a tree. Nice tree, yeah, she was going to...pass out now.

Yep.

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"Given the circumstances that's almost a rhetorical question isn't it?" She turned her head to flash him a wry smile. And a nice way to dodge saying 'no'.

"It's pretty here. I get so jealous of places like this some times. Quiet, and green, and still."

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He backed off, but kept an eye on her, almost sure she needed a hand or something.

"It's real pretty here. Wheelsy's a nice place, gotta lot of nice folks livin' an' workin' here, an' all the green an' quiet you can handle."

He spoke with pride for his home town; looking past Clarice to take in the small town himself.

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Logically she knew this kind of place, this kind of town, would bore her to tear soon. She wasn't meant for holding still or taking it easy. For now though the pause to take in the scenery and life here was...justifiable. She was injured. That meant at least a little down time.

And...making her way back slowly to the bed. Yep. Stubborn woman.

"I'm seeing that. And your trees are friendly and supportive of strangers. So...where should I say I'm from if I'm staying here?"

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Again he took a step closer, but wasn't going to help unless she really needed.

(He knew a thing or two about being stubborn.)

Retaking his seat, he scratched at the stubble forming on his jaw and shook his head.

"We'll figure all that out in a bit. Y'ain't leavin' yet, so we've got some time."

He was already running through a list of things that would have to be done to make this work, and not liking half of it.

"We're gonna have to bring the doc in on this. He's gonna have to help me with records an' all."

A stabbing couldn't go unreported, but it's hard to fill in the sheet when the victim doesn't technically exist in this world.

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"Does this...country..." yes, she'd been getting ready to say World instead, "...do naturalization tests? Should I get a pamphlet or something?" She was going to cooperate to the best of her ability! Honest!

Especially given she didn't know how long she'd be here. If she disappeared in the morning, hey, no harm no foul, but if she was stranded here for years, well, she didn't want to be a problem.

Not that the 'town secret' was much better but hey, it lacked the torch and pitchfork quality so it was awesome! "I can do tests. Do I need a permit for my quiver?"

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"I'd prefer it if you didn't carry that thing around," he said, starting with the question about the quiver. He was actually on the fence about giving it back, but that decision could wait.

"You could get naturalized, I'm sure. I just... don't know a whole lot about the process. I'll find out for sure, an' maybe your team'll show up before we gotta really worry about that."

He was sure it wouldn't be an easy thing to do, especially if she didn't have a country of origin to start with. Mostly, though he was hoping she wasn't stranded completely. He knew if he was in her place he'd want to get home as soon as possible.

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"Canada. My adopted father was from Canada, before countries dissolved." She offered that in case it helped? "And I promised not to carry it in town, I do want to keep it where ever I end up living though and I don't know this worlds weapon policy. For all I know only enforcement types are allowed anything." Because in more controlled realities it was exactly that. Illegal for standard citizens to own weaponry.

Those worlds were generally hit or miss on the 'likability' scale.

She finally reached her bed properly again and crawl into it, settling back on the mattress with a sigh. "This is going to be 'fun' isn't it? In that way where we grit our teeth a lot as we fay the word. As for my team...they go where they are needed, they have things to do. If they're lucky, and fix things right, they have worlds and lives to go back to. I don't, so it's low priority. You aren't likely to get more visitors soon."

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Countries dissolving, strict rules on who gets to have what, Bill's not so sure it's a bad thing she's ended up here after all.

"You c'n have 'em back, just so long as you don't go struttin' through town with 'em, or huntin' without a license." The last part was sort of a joke, and he cracked a small, quick smile after saying it.

He relaxed some when she laid back down after sitting tense and ready to go over and help her if she needed it.

"I wasn't too worried, 'bout visitors. I was more thinkin' about you, an' havin' to be gone from home too long."

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"Good. My father made that quiver." She'd held onto it despite it all. "All I've got of Mr. Creed now. He stayed on a world to help some kids that needed it." And how that had hurt too, but in a good way. A proud way. "And...I only hunt if there's no other source of food. I hate having to waste what I can't eat and I can't salt or smoke for beans. If I can't get a grocery store or freezer, then well..." Then they weren't nearly as civilized here as she thought?

Given the heart rate monitor machine she'd unplugged though, she was probably fine on tech level.

"I...don't. Have a home. Some worlds just...end. I was on the team because there was no where else to go and there needed to be someone in the team who was constant."

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"I was kiddin' 'bout the hunting thing," he said quietly.

Hearing about her father, and her world, Bill felt like he'd stuck his foot in his mouth right good. This certainly wasn't his best first impression ever.

"When you're feelin' better I'll show you around town. It's small, but we outta have everything you need."

He didn't know what to say about her not really having a home. He thought about suggesting maybe here is where she'd find one, but decided he better not, and just let it go.

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"Oh good. I hate paperwork anyway, so licenses are a pain." In any world, license meant paperwork. PAPERWORK. Best part of being a vigilante was the distinct lack thereof.

"Also, it may shock you, but I never learned to drive either. I hope this town is walkable." She glossed over the quiet parts. The possible pain and awkwardness. They didn't matter. Not really.

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"I don't think anyone likes paperwork."

He was sure neither of them were exactly comfortable in this situation, but he was trying. It's kind of hard to find your pace after starting off on the wrong foot.

"You can get from one side of the county to the other no problem on foot. 'Fraid we don't have much by way of public transportation, but things ain't far, an' a lot of folks are happy to lend a ride."

Wheelsy was a very close knit community, and she might be a stranger, but Southern hospitality usually prevailed. Bill hoped it would, anyways.

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"I do good walking and running. I'm very in shape, knife wound and ribs aside." Came from growing up in a post Apocalypse existence. Damn Egyptian godling. "In return I do know how to pilot things? Helicopter, landing craft if I can figure out the controls, small planes as long as no one minds bumpy rides. I could...crop dust?" She was trying to list useable skills because, well, if she was going to function in this community...it helped?

She was very personable, given a chance. People would probably adopt her like a three legged kitten. Odd, yes, but ADORABLE. "And I'm going to have to work out paying the doctor. Maybe he'll let me clean for him or something." Or do discreet deliveries for things like, oh, organs when timing was important? Who knew. Wily old doctor.

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"You can fly, but you can't drive?" The thought was in his head and out his mouth before he could catch it.

Trying to slide around it, he picked up on another piece of what she said.

"I'm sure the doc won't be after you for anything right away." Especially not after hearing her situation.

"We'll figure out a place you can work if you want, place t'stay and such 'til you get some money."

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"My resume is kind of depressing." She chuckled softly. "When we stole supply trucks as a kid Mr. Creed drove. Otherwise we hopped around vie my abilities. I've picked up skills as needed, as I can't always promise I have enough energy to say...teleport a whole helicopter to safety should the pilot die." Made sense right?

"Shuttles, well, shuttles are nice in space. I can only 'port to places I've seen a good enough picture of on a world, or a place I've been...being off planet screws with all my trajectories and I don't like risking smearing myself or anyone else with me because we came from over three miles up you know?"

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Bill was trying to keep an open mind here, and remember that she was from a different kind of place, and he doesn't know anything about the situation, but when she starts mentioning ripiing off supply trucks and things like that, it gets hard.

Obviously a small place like Wheelsy doesn't have a need for helicopter pilots, let alone astronauts, but he knew he needed to find somewhere to place her.

"You could work at the department," he offered. "I can't make you a full fledged deputy until we get everything else in order, but there's plenty of things you could still help with."

Really, their small department could use the help, and having her there made him responsible for her, and allowed him to keep an eye on her.

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Ah, she caught that slight tightening of the lips there, Bill. If anything it made her think better of him, even amused her a little. "My world wasn't a good one. Whole world was ruled by an insane, crazy, powerful person who let his underlings experiment on people, thought humans were less than dogs, and basically made the world a place that defined 'survival of the fittest'. People, good people who had escaped like me, or who lived in hiding like folk Mr. Creed knew needed food too." Because, well, explaining now helped with future inner morality struggles? "This world is hardly that, and I couldn't drive a truck even if we did need to steal one." Promise.

Huh.

Deputy?

"I don't know anything about guns."

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He wasn't expecting an explanation, but getting one helps some.

"Well I can promise things'll be a lot better for you here in Wheelsy."

It wasn't hard to beat crazy dictators, but truthfully Bill thought Wheelsy was a lot better than lots of other places.

He's of course, somewhat biased on that point.

"Y'don't really need to, not when we get you started at least. An' if you get on to bein' an officer, there's trainin'. This ain't a place where we draw a whole lot anyways, though, so you outta be alright."

He had her planned for light duty anyways. Working around the station, maybe manning the crosswalk at the school or something.

As easy going and trusting as he was, Bill wasn't about to hand out a loaded weapon and the full power of a badge to someone who literally just fell out of the sky.

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For his information she'd tumbled, sideways, out of a hole that appeared in the woods. She'd hurt a lot more if she fell from the sky. "You're a very welcoming person, Sheriff." Just had to be said really. "My brain keeps insisting you should be a lot angrier at me than you appear to be." She was paranoid, she couldn't help it.

Not having a gun, or needing to draw one was GOOD in her estimation. Very good. "I"d dress like you then?"1

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"It's been a long day. Maybe I'll be mad about it tomorrow," he joked weakly.

Looking down at his uniform, he tugged his shirt a bit straighter and shrugged.

"If you wanna be a deputy. But if brown an' green ain't your color you can just work around the station as an aid. It's only when you get a badge that you gotta wear the uniform t'go with it."

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"Color doesn't matter so much as the ability to move in it." She tilted her head, probably evaluating his clothing. "How well does it move? Is it tight? Does it catch and snag?" Probably things he hadn't thought much about?

She a strict 'must be able to kick over my head in this outfit' policy unless she was undercover or something.

"...does it get cold enough here that the sleeves are actually necessary?" Oh, realization..."My dress probably got cut huh?"

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That... is a whole lot of questions about things Bill has never really thought about.

"Uh... "

Yep, Bill's a guy who's primary wardrobe concerns are, does it fit? and does it come in plaid?

"It gets the job done? We do a lot, an' it'll stand up to most of it. We got shorter sleeves for the summer time, but fall's got goin', an' it'll get pretty cold come winter time."

With an apologetic look, he shakes his head.

"Pretty sure they probably ruined your clothes."

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The cold wasn't so much a problem. Cloaks were easy to whip up, and they allowed for a lot of free movement if one knew how to wear them properly. She'd contemplate sleeves though, see how things went. "It's alright. That wasn't the original anyway, I can always make another." But it did mean she had no actual clothes to her name now, which was a little awkward.

"Back to the uniforms though. Can you lift your hands over your head?" She wanted to see how the sleeves moved at shoulder and wrist! "Then some kicks?"

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Bill gave her an Look that both asked 'are you serious?' and said that he wasn't about to do any of that.

"We can find you somethin' to wear when you're ready to go. An' if you prefer makin' things, I'm sure my mom or someone can help you out with material an' all."

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Her ever-so-innocent return look probably meant she was a little serious...but not much. She'd just have to watch him avidly when he moved of his own volition wouldn't she? "It really would help me understand how clothing in this world is suppose to drape." That was definitely a teasing tone though. She miiiight be on the very of laughing at his expression.

"I can work with anything really. I'm good at adjusting, it just won't end up very fashionable. I'll remake my dress on my own though, it's a thing. Mine, what I am used to wearing, and really what I should be wearing if I ever do leave here."