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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"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."

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"As long as you aren't naked you should be good," he said, holding up his hand.

"There's a craft store in town, you can talk with the lady there, an' get what you need."

Whatever she wanted to do about a dress was fine wit him, so long as he wasn't too greatly involved.

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Riveted leather collar and shoulder rig, green silk from said collar waterproofed and weighted at the hem to drape properly and serve as a secondary weapon if necessary? Some day he might get to hear more about her dad. He'd decided long ago that his little girl needed something...girl like...and he had no clue about girls. She loved the dress really.

"Ah, another question, what's the nudity taboos here? I mean, not actually nude, but what is considered improper? What's considered too short, or too tight and the like? Are there laws?" As a law enforcement officer, he'd know right? "I know in some worlds all flesh to the chin needs to be covered, in others they live in ripped shorts. Everyone."

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Bill was beginning to wonder how much she said was for real, and how much was just messing with him.

He really couldn't tell.

"There's no laws 'bout what you where as long as you ain't showin'-- stuff."

He made a vague, slightly embarrassed gesture to torso, then coughed into his hand.

"Look, just-- just look at what other folks are wearin' an' you'll be fine."

Beat.

"Except for streakin' Dan. He's the model of inappropriate."

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Not a bit just now! Hulk-world had been...very green. And full of shorts.

She followed his hand gesture, amused, then arched an eyebrow "Bellybuttons?" She was assuming no bikini zones but hey, it was fun to say anyway. "I'll look them over, I promise. Just figured that since you seem to want to sit here I could ask." and since she didn't get a decent answer, she'd ask other people!

"Oh dear, model enough to have earned a NAME for it? Describe him so I'll know not to listen to any of his advice." Ah, yes, grinning now.

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"No, I meant-- y'know what, nevermind. Just people watch, I'm sure you'll get it."

Her grin earned an unamused look from Bill (that was just the tiniest bit amused and trying to hide it).

"He's the guy who runs around without any clothes. At all."

And Bill's one of the guys who gets to chase and tackle Dan when he's out streaking about.

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"Yes sir," she snapped a precise salute, cheerfully, at the order. Why not after all? "People watching I can certainly do, and I'll pay special attention to the torso area." Apparently shew as one of those who dealt with her hellish life by...being overly cheerful and having fun when possible.

"Ah, so, naked guy running. Don't strike up conversation with him. Is he more trustable when clothed?" What? She liked talking about naked guys. They were of personal interest to her.

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Bill felt like facepalming, and nearly did, but managed to restrain himself.

"He's fine when he's wearin' somethin'. He's a hassle when he ain't. Talkin' to him is fine, just don't give him anything t'drink."

Because that's when the clothes start coming off.

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Hey, she'd count tonight a painful, painful Win if she got him laughing! Smiling would be a nice shiny bronze medal though. "Ah, that would involve having drinks to give him. And the willingness to annoy you and yours by starting a naked man tackling competition." Which she wouldn't.

Honest.

Unless people were really bored and started it. If someone else was starting it, well, fun to go along?

Maybe.

"He as cute as you?" Best to know ahead of time if he was say, ninety and a prune.

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What about blushing, did that earn any points? Because there was now a bit of heat creeping up into Bill's features; a side effect of being called cute.

"No, he uh-- I don't think too many people would say so."

Like most streakers, Dan was the sort no one really wanted to see naked, and wished they could forget when they had.

Trying to recover, Bill shifted on his seat, and coughed into his hand.

"But yeah, we got all sorts in Wheelsy. You stick around long enough you'll get to know 'em all."

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"Ah, one of those. Yeah, don't think I'll even talk about drinks near him then." Grinnnning now! Grinning so much! Because, well, Bill was blushing and it was always fun when cute guys blushed. And, really, she hadn't meant anything by it but, well, he was cute.

Statement of fact.

Never hurt to say so.

"I'm a quick study, I'll learn quick!"