- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- 1-3 posts per day
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- My times are pretty erratic, but I try to avoid being on EST 11pm-9am.
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Genres
- Fantasy, Modern, Historical Romance.
Betty took a breath to steady herself. And then another. It wasn't like he had proof she was the thief he was looking for. Or that she'd been plotting his murder since they'd first bumped into each other a couple months ago. Actually, he'd probably guessed that part already. This was such a bad idea.
A few months ago, the very idea of her walking into a police station voluntarily would have had her in stitches. Granted, she didn't have any open warrants in this state, but still, she didn't make it a habit to flirt with danger, and the only other reason she'd have, to be walking into the den of her archenemy was to put a bullet in him. Normally, anyways.
Taking another huge gulp of air, Beatrice Leach, orphan, long-time thief, and perpetually cursed to be miserable, scrunched up her shoulders and walked into the police station, going right up to the front desk. With her best sweet persona on, she asked, "Hi there. Could I speak to a Police Detective Ashley Herriot?" She found herself biting her upper lip involuntarily.
"Can I ask what this is about?" The receptionist asked, smiling at her in a friendly manner, but clearly a little checked out.
She hesitated for one second, and took another breath. She'd thought she'd lost all sense of fear after years of being a professional thief, but even that history was apparently not enough to prepare one for this. "Please tell him Be- I mean-" She couldn't remember if she'd actually told him her name that night. "Just tell him it's about his baby." The receptionist stared at her, jaw dropping slightly. "I'm pregnant." Betty blurted. "And he's the only person who could be the father."
"Ma'am." The man in front of her said seriously, standing up. "If this is a joke-"
"Trust me," she said, hastily, "I would also rather not be here, but I don't know where he lives, and I can't- well, at least he has the right to know. If it changes anything. Not that it should. I mean, if you really think it's a joke, I can just walk out of here, and he doesn't have to hear from me again, but he probably knows better than anyone, that I honestly don't know... what would happen to a baby if it was stuck with just me." She really didn't want to be asking this of him. Hell, she didn't even know what exactly she was asking him to do, since with his track record, there was no guarantee the baby wouldn't be screwed anyways, but at the very least she needed a backup plan for if her curse rubbed off on the kid. If that meant risking losing custody of her baby altogether, well, that was just a risk she'd have to take.
"No!" The officer said, hastily. "Just- just wait here." He stood up and rushed deeper into the police station.
@WickedWitch
A few months ago, the very idea of her walking into a police station voluntarily would have had her in stitches. Granted, she didn't have any open warrants in this state, but still, she didn't make it a habit to flirt with danger, and the only other reason she'd have, to be walking into the den of her archenemy was to put a bullet in him. Normally, anyways.
Taking another huge gulp of air, Beatrice Leach, orphan, long-time thief, and perpetually cursed to be miserable, scrunched up her shoulders and walked into the police station, going right up to the front desk. With her best sweet persona on, she asked, "Hi there. Could I speak to a Police Detective Ashley Herriot?" She found herself biting her upper lip involuntarily.
"Can I ask what this is about?" The receptionist asked, smiling at her in a friendly manner, but clearly a little checked out.
She hesitated for one second, and took another breath. She'd thought she'd lost all sense of fear after years of being a professional thief, but even that history was apparently not enough to prepare one for this. "Please tell him Be- I mean-" She couldn't remember if she'd actually told him her name that night. "Just tell him it's about his baby." The receptionist stared at her, jaw dropping slightly. "I'm pregnant." Betty blurted. "And he's the only person who could be the father."
"Ma'am." The man in front of her said seriously, standing up. "If this is a joke-"
"Trust me," she said, hastily, "I would also rather not be here, but I don't know where he lives, and I can't- well, at least he has the right to know. If it changes anything. Not that it should. I mean, if you really think it's a joke, I can just walk out of here, and he doesn't have to hear from me again, but he probably knows better than anyone, that I honestly don't know... what would happen to a baby if it was stuck with just me." She really didn't want to be asking this of him. Hell, she didn't even know what exactly she was asking him to do, since with his track record, there was no guarantee the baby wouldn't be screwed anyways, but at the very least she needed a backup plan for if her curse rubbed off on the kid. If that meant risking losing custody of her baby altogether, well, that was just a risk she'd have to take.
"No!" The officer said, hastily. "Just- just wait here." He stood up and rushed deeper into the police station.
@WickedWitch