They kept bumping into eacother, as Bashir seemed to work around the clock. Sometimes he was out for a quick bite to eat, or to refill coffe. Still he always took the time talking to her, even if he clearly wasn't enthusiastic about it.
It was normal for young adults to work alot, time off was something that came later in life. Unless one had some big shot college degree with perfect grades like her idiot brother. Which mean her brother couldn't be an idiot.
Bashir had never done anything to lead her on, bit still she found herself in front of the mirror. Plucking at her face, carefully applying makeup so that it would seem she hadn't tried to hard. She finished the seanse with a duckface trying to look sexy, but it ended in a laughter and a sophisticated snort.
Beeing one of the wealthier families, it came a bit odd that none of them had an ounce of class to them.
Taking one last look in the mirror, she reared the text from Milo: Np, just get down here whenever you feel like! Atleast he'd left out the smiley.
Milo had taken the time to give her clearance down at county hall. Ofcourse she'd have a short chat with Milo to, but the trip was mainly to meet Bashir. Wonder what her childhood friend had said to make him agree meeting with her? And what was she going to say? Maybe she could talk about her failing blog?
Wait, had she remembered putting blush on both her cheeks, or just one of them.
Mum and dad were out on date night, Marco at work; so Oriana walked into the livingroom without hesitation. She didn't want a lot of questions, or lie to anyone. But for now she couldn't bear any "advice" about her rendeszvous. Not only didn't she need it, it was all completely innocent. And what if they thought it was to soon after her divorce.
Mum really wanted grandchildren, so she hadn't been happy about the divorce. Dad didn't seem to bothered by it though.
"Going out"? A dark, male voice interrupted her. It just didn't matter how much he talked. it just never sounded like Joe got used to using his voice. Maybe he had screamed a lot in prison, and ruined his vocalcords?
"Yes", she answered politely. "You're not competing today?". She'd miscalculated his presence.
Joe shook his head: "Mahdis gave me the evil eye. How could a horse give someone the evil eye? He probably meant she was in a bad mood, it was a moody animal.
Joe was actually nice, and not even close to as creepy he had been as a teen. Guess people actually can change. He still was as crazy as they come ofcourse. Why he'd been shaving off that gorgeous, think wavy hair as a teenager was just odd though. Oriana wishes she had hair like that.
"Are you going to meet someone?". He was still sitting in the same spot, with the same look on his face. Oriana bit back an urge to snap at him. So was so used to snapping at Marco, she sometimes did it autonomously. Not that she had any reason for snapping at him either, but it was better the two of them bit eacothers heads, than letting it out on any of the other ones.
Instead she said: "Yes. I'm meeting a friend".
Joe didn't believe her: "Is this "friend" a guy?"
Sinking together she didn't have to answer. It was to early after a divorce wasn't it? Especially when her ex- husband had been the perfect man.
Oriana sighed, suddenly realizing how tired she was. Why did she even want to keep it a secret? She was a grown woman, and did what she wanted to. But for some reason she imagined her parents judging her.
"You're gonna wear that?" Joe eyed her up and down, not in an approving or even accepting way. He looked more like he was actually measuring her.
What was wrong with what she wore, she aired her thoughts to him.
"Nothing's wrong with your outfit. It's just...."
"What?" Oriana stroked her hands down her dress, she liked it. But now she was getting sweaty and nervous. Which it was no need to, as she was just meeting up with a friend.
He raised his shoulders casually. "If you want your "friends" attention, that's not going to cut it."
"No offense Joakim, but I'm not going to dress like some tart to get a guys attention". She wasn't that desperate. If it was good enough for her ex- husband, it was good enough for Bashir. Come to think of it, everything was good enough for her ex. He never complained, so why wasn't that enough for her??
"Doubt you want attention from those type of guys anyway. No one's talking about anything extreme, but if you don't show off what you got he's not going to get that you're interested."
"That makes no sense..." It didn't. She hadn't done that for Selim, and he got it. Ofcourse, she'd taken the initiative for a relationship to.
"Yeah, I'm sure you know a lot more about guys than I do".... He said with a voice drier than a desert during draught season. "We usually need someone hitting us over the head with a shovel to get it".
Oriana sighed again, not at Joe but at herself. She just couldn't do anything right could she?
"C'mon", Joe stood up, "I'll help you find something".
That was weird, but Oriana had given up. Her perfect dress wasn't so perfect anyway... and she had thought it was so cute!
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The frontdoor at county hall had never seemed more insuperable. Butterflies ate away at her stomach, their tiny wings in the open wounds made her naseous, and it tickled! Luckily for Oriana they weren't real. Unfortunately, the sweaty palms were as real as they come, and she started stressing out. Which made her face and nose all shiny red.
All manner of excuses ran through her head, every little though in her brain tried getting her running away. But she had made up her mind. Nor had she ever had any issues talking to men before,. so what was the problem?
Choosing to ignore the nervous ticks that threatend to take over her limbs, Oriana pressed the automatic dooropener. Say what yo want about the Jericho officials, but the official buildings thought about disabled sims.
She straightened the clothes Joe had helped her pick out before moving inside. The dress was a lot prettier in her opinion, but the outfit was okay. Joe claimed it showed her silhouette better, like men cared about that.... not that she wanted Bashir to care either. Oriana just thought it made her look more manish.
Walking up to the lingonberrys cops, Oriana stated her name and appointment. They let her straight in without even showing any form of Id. Good thing she wasn't up to anything bad.
She meet Milo in the hallway, and they chatted a bit whilst taking the tour up to Bashirs office, who also knew she was visiting ofcourse. Or else it would have been a bit odd. Oriana was sure Milo would carry his son with him around the clock if he could, as the baby tiredly hung on his arm.
It was a bit strange that he was so intend on them meeting, but Milo was good friends with both of them. Maybe he felt it was time his friend did something else than working, or Anya had something to do with it.
Milo kept cooing his son as they walked, talking more with him than Oriana. All parents seemed to do that, and asked the baby what he thought about things. Was he expecting junior to answer?
"He's in his office working, as usual". Milo said to her and then to his son: "Uncle Bashir works all the time, doesn't he?"
Turning to Oriana again, he went: "Try to get him out of the office if you can. We're worried he might actually grow into his chair." He turned to the baby again: "Yes, uncle Bashir will grow into his chair!" The baby laughed, or so she thought. Maybe it was crying, or puking?
And why did all friends of guys with babies call themselves uncles? It didn't work that way!
Oriana had always assumed things at county hall were all glamorous, but it was dull, bland and worn out. Like most official buildings when she thought about it. Atleast no one could accuse the government using taxpayers money on extravagance.
"Just try to get him out of there, please", Milo said as they said goodbye. His little boy needed to sleep. Oriana looked after them as they left. He was just as reliable and responsible as he'd always been.
The office was small and simple, with few personal belongings and a plant in the corner that doubtfully was real.
Bashir was a pretty small, skinny guy with broad shoulders and lean musculature, but behind that simple desk he gave the impression of beeing a giant. Not physically ofcourse, but this was his domain. He had his feet casually on the desk, and the phone up to his ear, whilst waving her in with one hand. The quick unpersonal grin made her almost regret it. That and the sigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. It smelled terrible and made her throat dry..
"I heard what you said", it was the first time Oriana had seen him beeing all politician. That chilling voice of him was low, hard and extremely demanding. A voice that forced you into listening, and making any sim want to slap the owner. He sounded like a complete jerk: And I told you to get it on his desk. Now." He kept his voice low and calm the entire time, now and then blowing smoke out into the office.
He kept studying the wall, not really looking at anything whilst whoever was at the other end kept talking. Oriana didn't hear what was beeing said, but the steady low summing gave it off. It seemed to take forever, as Bashir finally said: "To bad for you. Get it done." It was a direct order, as efficient as any loudmouth drillsargeant. Atleast she was able to decippher the "yes sir" at the other end before he hung up and put the phone away.
Bashir dragged his feet off the desk, inhaling smoke deeply into his longues without coughing. He slowly let it out again, before repeating the action.
Oriana tried hinting a bit: I thought this place was non- smoking. She really wished he'd put out that deathstick, but didn't want to ask him. It was his office after all. It smelled bad and an it was a bit hard to breathe.
It is, he answered, inhaling deeply again.
She couldn't help but smiling a bit, he was such a wildchild: Since when do you smoke anyway? He'd never smoked as a teen as far as she knew.
Since I started working here. A short gleam came dancing in his icy eyes, as he studied her under heavy eyelids. Maybe Joe knew what he did with the outfit. Not that she cared ofcourse...
How's your ...thing.... going, casually waving his hand as he asked. He had no idea what she did, did he?
Bashir kept that stinky sigarette going, as she answered him: Well, I tried writing a blog, whilst figuring out what to do. But no one reads it. She studier the floor as she continued: I looked into the top female bloggers, and they usually just post pictures of themselves with scarce clothing. And write reviews on things they've gotten payed to write positive about. I doubt that's anything for me though.
It was time she faced it, no one wanted to see her with little clothes on anyway.
He looked up at her, still with that sigarette in the corner of his mouth: Really? Maybe those blogs are worth reading then. He flashed her a very non- politician grin.
She giggled at him, stroking her hand quickly over the neck, ending her seduction with another sophisticated snort. Oriana was the epiphany of classy: I'm not saying they don't have anything interesting to say, I just don't understand why so many people read them. I get the foodblogs, fashion, political ones, litterature and arts ones. I don't know, those pinkblogs just aren't for me.
Moving his bony butt to the desk, Bashir helped himself to another sigarette. He really smoked a lot, maybe he was stressed out. Wonder what it was that did it?
I like it- he said, referring to her poor blog: It's very you; cute.
Atleast Oriana had the decency to blush a bit. It was kind of embarassing that someone she knew had read it. But he thought she was cute!! Which was good... or maybe it wasn't for men? Didn't they just like sexy? Oriana wasn't sexy, and wouldn't know what it was if it hit her in the face.
I especially like the part of the trusworthy kiss- booth guy.... Bashir winked at her as she giggled a again. Why was she even giggling? She sounded like a complete moron!
He took another deep inhale, blowing smoke out of his nose. As Bashir excused himself to quickly chech some papers on the desk, Oriana took the opportunity to study him. There was a lot of mouth on that guy, and jaws. She wished she had a jawline, a pretty strong jaw and high cheekbones like models. Then she could have long hair to!
Bashir licked his fingertip, quickly flipping through the papers again. Somehow, whilst Oriana had been wishing for a normal jaw, her gaze had wandered down to his crotch! Now it seemed like she was staring at his..... ahem... Ripping her eyes up before he noticed, she did her best not to blush. She started feeling a bit sick to the stomach again, but it still was a good sick. Well, sicker was more like it as she felt off all the time.
As all things in life that will make you embarassed, you are sure to repeat them, and Oriana was no exception. Since she started thinking about making sure it didn't seem like she was staring at his crotch, her eyes started wandering down there again, and again. That was so impolite! She'd be angry if he stared at her crotch! Was he smirking at her? Oh no, had he noticed?
Bashir? Oriana decided it was best getting out of there, before burning a hole in his manparts: Do you want to grab something to eat? Luckily she remembered why she was supposed to be there in the first place: And then maybe you could give me some advice on beeing heard in the world of blogging? He smiled at her, finally putting out that damn cigarette without lighting a new one: Sure. He even held the door open for her. Good thing atleast one of them had manners.
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Movies always portayed stakeouts as something exciting. Huge cameras, quick photographing; usually of some dangerous criminals openly meeting other dangerous criminal. It usually involved some "casually sexy" photos of a goodlooking woman, who might not seem like it on the surface, but she's really dangerous and deadly. But deep down inside she was really a good person, with a dramatic story for beeing there. Usually one of vengeance or force, like a child beeing kidnapped. Ofcourse the hero is also just a tad better than sexylady at fighting, towards the end. Just before he gets smitten with her beauty, and she kicks him in the face.
Simality was a bit different though.
The criminals in Jericho were really good at hiding, and rarely met eacother openly. And the women were just plain dangerous, only there for easy money and the excitement.
A tiny, run down appartment with little furniture, they had to communicate as scarcely as possible, and quietly. Ofcouse one wouldn't want something exciting to happen right? Safety first!
It was Dominics turn to stare out between the curtains, which meant that Marco was allowed to sit in the oh so comfy chair.
The place was rigged with wireless highdefintion cameras on the outside, taking both live and still pictures. Which was a lot easier than taking photos with a camera. Stupid actionmovies making everything seem so difficult. They were still there ofcourse as there was things cameras didn't always catch, as a hunch or a small, suspect movement. In addition, they had cameras themselves, incase something happened. But it never did.
For now it just seemed like a lot of people went in and out of the building. A lot of them were actually legit workers, but a few of them weren't. It was just a matter of identifying them, and ofcourse hoping to discover contacts, and how the business were operated. So all manners of surveillance was used, this oldfashioned method just one of them.
And it was boring, but necessary. But for now it seemed like the ciminal syndicate would build themselves up again, without the police doing anything but watch. They were a slick bunch.
They didn't even have any idea who the topleader was, and they just suspected some ringleaders. Criminals worked as other organizations, but this was hidden under several legit businesses, as it often was. If they were lucky, they would eventually get the syndicate under the mafia- paragraph.
But, when they were at the verge of important information, it had a tendency of dissapearing, or it was deemed unimportant, or it turned out it was a dead end. Other times, sims would suddenly go underground when they started catching up on them.
So someone was corrupt. But who the hell was it, and how far up did it go?
It's always the matter of proof, and he had none. Patience was a virtue Marco had little of, but it was a learning curve. Good thing Dominic wasn't like him there, the redhead was the appifany of patience.
He hadn't told his partner that his pregnant wife had made the moves on him. That was just plain heartless. More important, Dominic was a very capable shot, probably as good as any sniper, if not better. And Marco was such a large target, it wasn't worth the risk.
They switched again, it was Dominics turn to sit it the awesome chair, and Marco staring out the window. Sims came and went through the door, as always. This probably wasn't their headquarters, as criminals tended not to use that.
I think Nette has a crush on you, Dominics voice was low, the words softened by the accent. He sounded strangely neutral about it. Why wasn't he angry? Dom was such a french.... Marco chose not to adresse the subject, he was a man after all.
Changing the subject he quietly said: Excited about becoming a dad? Marco wanted kids one day, but not daughters. They could end up meeting a guy like him one day! Come thinking about it, if he had sons they could be like him as a teen! Yikes! Maybe he could get a dog instead? Or a goldfish...
He almost heard Doms hughe mouth smiling as he anwered: Yes, it'll be great. Nette wobbled after me, trying to kill me when she learned we're going on anither stakeout. She worries to much.
I blame the movies for making sims thinking this is dangerous, Marco answered. It is a boy or a girl? When Dom had a baby, it made him an uncle. That's how it works in the male world. A bloke has a baby, all his mates automatically becomes uncles!
We decided we wanted to be surprised, Dominic answered. That meant his wife decided it. Not that Marco understood why, the woman was clearly having a boy by the looks of it.
He went silent for a while, as Marco kept an extra eye outside, nothing exciting was happening. It seemed like they wouldn't get anything this time either. It was really irritating. Couldn't the syndicate make just one damn mistake so they could go after them?
You think it'll have my... condition? Clearly his partner wasn't done talking yet.
Marco kept gazing out the window, but had no idea what he was talking about. Was he ill? He didn't seem ill. It could be allergies, it'd be strange if he didn't have any with that big nose.
As his reaction never came, Dominic continued: I'm not sure if the baby will be a meresim like me, or if it's even heraditary.
This time Marco took the chance turning away from the window, giving him a short glance before turning back again. No wonder he didn't mind his fishstinking breath from all the sushieating. Dominic was a meresim?
Well, Marco did his best letting his diplomatic skills take care of it: dad's a vampire, but neither my sister or me are.
I know. Of course he knew, they talked about their families. That's why I asked beeing partnered with you.
Physically turning away from the window, the blinds small opening closed its gap. So tiny that the citys biggest gossiphag would've been jelaouse: What? Marco didn't like where this was going, they had never met before they became partners....
There's a surprising amount of sims that would love seeing us other lifeforms extinct. He raised his shoulders: You just seemed different...
Great, he did attract freaks then. Ah well, clearly wasn't a lot he could do it about it: How did you meet your wife Dom?
I was caught in the net on the boat she worked on. I'd been on land before, which is why I spoke french. Oh gee, that was obvious. Atleast they had an interesting story to tell their grandchildren.
Turning his attention back out the window, Marco unwillingly thought about his dads words. It wasn't anything strange about him. Other than the fact that he drew freaks to him.... and unicorns... it could happen to anybody.
There was no need to panick, as a couple of others walked into the tiny damp room. All of a sudden it smelled better in there, and it wasn't just the batch of "fresh" air that came with them. They were both in civilian clothes, and the fewest would suspect a couple of lovely ladies beeing cops. But Linn was as competent as any of them; a beautiful face isn't the same as an empty head. Turned out her new partner was Lori though. In normal circumstances it might be awkward, but it was years ago since her and Marco had a thing. If he'd known back then that they would end up beeing co- workers.... he would have done the exact same thing. It had definitly been worth it.
Anything? Linn was as polite and chatty as ever. She'd won the fight for the donuts right, and had long since forgiven him. Ofcourse she had, women had a tendency for that.
No, Dominic quietly answered: Just the same as always.
They're up to something.... Marco didn't have the smallest doubt about it. Nor did amyone else either, but as Lori said with professional voice: If we can't find it.... Well, they couldn't really do anything about nothing.
So, excited about the baby? Linn gave Dominic all her attention. Marco heard them silently talking in the background. The two new cops were supposed to take over the surveillance, but there was a twenty minute overlap. To share information and potential new planning. But when nothing happened...
Shit!
Marco walked away from the window as quickly as he could. Not that it was a massive deal, but better safe than sorry in this case.
What? Dominic jumped up from the comfy old chair. He had been deep in thoughts about his unborn spawn.
Lori take over, I've got to leave. She nodded, taking over his spot. She didn't have to ask why though, as she looked out the window. Unfortunately it was someone atleast three in the room knew.
Marco still answered Dominic: Code of ethics... I have to check with Vigdis if I'm to continue.
Just had to love relatives. Atleast he knew what Rowena had taken up for a living.
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If anyone wonders why Milo Jr has a different skintone, is because I needed to extract the family from a different save. But Anya was just preggers, and I couldn't be bothered to find the right save. So Milo Jr was born in the DIY build world that the picture was taken :D
Rowena is Mareks (Ivas brother) youngest daughter. There's a link to a family tree in the generation rolls part, if thing gets to confusing.
I really hope the difference in writing doesn't get to obvious, but I see it very clearly. It's a bit up and down for me at the moment. I'm currently back in school, which is a lot more difficult than I assumed it would be. And there's also some crap between my ex and me, mainly when it comes to visitationrights to our son, but also some other stuff. I'm not saying that to get sympathy for the record... okay, maybe just for a bit of sympathy... but sympathy for the sucky writing ;)
Thanks for reading
poses by: Elexis, Sea, Ohmysims, Aikea Guinea, IMHO
