Chapter Text
Brooke shivers as the cold Toronto air whirls around her vehicle whilst she drives slowly through the winding city streets. Even though she has the heating on full, the poor insulation of her beat up cop car causes her breath to form an icy mist as it leaves her airways. She isn’t paid enough for this shit anymore.
When she’d been a fresh faced, twenty four year old cop, Brooke had been happy to take whatever assignments she could get, but ten years later and she has never managed to break her routine. Which was why she finds herself, on this shitty, freezing Saturday night, on patrol duty checking street corners for ladies of the night .
She has always considered herself to be a strong supporter for the rights of sex workers and so five years ago, when the practice became illegal in Canada and she actually had to start arresting the women rather than moving them along on the grounds of solicitation and loitering, she’d been pissed to say the least. Despite the fact that it was her job to uphold the law, Officer Hytes has the reputation of being firm but fair. She will only use her powers of arrest as a last resort, more often using warnings or cautions to get her message across. The girls trust her and in return, she protects them.
That is what she has to tell herself as she navigates her usual route looking out for the girls, the only thing that stops her from throwing in the towel and asking to be reassigned. If she doesn’t look out for these girls, nobody else would.
As Brooke turns the corner to one of the more notorious locations she sees the under dressed girls in their skyscraper heels scattering, darting down alleys or hopping into cars. It’s the same every week. She doesn’t see the point in pursuing them on foot, so usually, once she’s assured that nobody is too far out of it, nobody is injured and there are no fights taking place, she will move onto the next location.
Tonight however, one of the girls does not scurry away with the rest. She stays put, starring Brooke down as she slowly rolls towards the curb. Her petite frame, dressed in a short black skirt and red bralette and balanced on glittery gold platform heels, does not waver as she lowers the window on the passenger side. No, instead she actually makes her way over to the vehicle and leans in, propping herself on her forearms on the window frame.
Before she speaks, Brooke notices how stunningly beautiful the smaller woman is. Which, ideally, shouldn’t be her first thought in situations like these. Her smooth looking skin is tanned and her shoulder length, golden hair frames her face in a sleek bob. Her face is painted thick with makeup, but somehow it makes her look soft, rather than harsh and angular, and her false lashes flutter as she bats her eyes. Brooke imagines that this woman is very popular with the customers.
“Well I never serviced an officer of the law before.” The young woman says in a soft sultry tone. It is so unexpected that Brooke’s mouth falls agape and she is unable to reply, despite the fact she prides herself on always keeping a level head. All rational thoughts fly from her mind as she thinks about being serviced by this woman. She stammers momentarily, fumbling for a response.
The woman, however, seems un-bothered by Brooke’s nervousness and leans in, angling her cleavage towards her in a way that is blatantly obvious. She can see a large tattoo of a cat’s face surrounded by a rose on her sternum and before she can stop herself, she’s thinking about running her tongue over it. Jesus, she needs to get laid more.
“Ma’am.” Brook starts to say sternly, but it tumbles out of her mouth in a stammer and the woman’s eyes crinkle into a smirk.
Suddenly, she barks out a laugh that is so deep, loud and gritty, Brooke thinks that surely this petite, soft, sultry woman could not be making that noise. “I’m playing with you boo.” She says loudly through her laughter.
Brooke can tell by her accent that she’s not from around here, so she tries to stay calm and give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe none of the other girls told her that solicitation is a crime and that joking with an officer about committing said crime, is a sure fire way to end up in jail. The best thing for Brooke to do would be to get out, check her identification, give the girl a firm warning and be on her way.
Brooke sighs deeply as she unclips her seat belt and the woman quirks her eyebrow. “If I get out of the vehicle, are you going to run? Because it’s freezing and I don’t feel like chasing you.”
“Why would I run, baby? I aint doing nothing wrong.” The woman says, fluttering her eyelashes once more and flicking her hair off her shoulder.
Brooke grits her teeth and inhales sharply as she get out of her car, practically slamming the door behind her. She walks up to the small woman and notices immediately that even though she wears thick, tall heels and Brooke wears flat boots, she it still at least a few inches taller than her. Cute . She thinks briefly, before chastising herself for the thought.
“I’m going to need to see some identification, ma’am.” Brooke says firmly, holding out her hand with her palm facing upwards.
The woman’s playful guise slips momentarily before she shrugs. “Don’t got one, Officer.” She says with a grin, the word officer coming out in a long drawl. Brooke grits her teeth once more. I bet this little routine works on all the male officers , she thinks bitterly. Someone needs to teach her a lesson before she gets herself in serious trouble.
“What’s your name?” She says curtly, taking out her notebook from her breast pocket, trying desperately not to look at the woman's slender, exposed legs.
“Miss Vanjie.” The woman smirks.
Brooke rolls her eyes in frustration. “Your mother gave you that name?”
“My mama didn’t give me nothin’.” The woman laughs. It’s that loud, harsh, roar of a laugh once more. Brooke hates it. She fucking adores it.
“Are you aware that solicitation and prostitution is a crime?” Brooke says sharply, hoping to frighten Vanjie into shutting her damn mouth. What else could you do to get her to shut that mouth?
Vanjie shrugs and twirls a strand of golden hair around her finger. “I never heard the word solidi... solicitate… that word before.”
How dare she play so coy? It makes Brooke want to drag her into the back seat of her cop car and kiss the coyness right off her smug, frustrating, fucking gorgeous face.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me to the station.” She hates doing this, she really does, but hopefully a night in a cell will shake some sense into her before an officer with less patience comes along and she ends up serving some serious time.
Vanje, instead of bolting like most girls would, shrugs her shoulders. “You do what you gotta do, baby.” She says, and Brooke swears that if she calls her baby one more time there will be consequences.
Then, Vanjie moves towards the passenger side of the car and makes a move for the handle. “What are you doing? You sit in the back seat.” Brooke glared at Vanjie, gesturing harshly to the back door. As Vanjie clambers ungracefully into the back seat, Brooke gets a view of her pert ass in her tight skirt and has to clench her fist to disperse some of the tension pooling in her abdomen.
Vanjie, seemingly unconcerned with the fact she was sitting in the back of a police car, keeps of a steady stream of verbal garbage on the way to the station, spouting off about whatever came to her mind. She tells Brooke, without prompt, that she’s moved to Toronto from Tampa, Florida, but is originally Puerto Rican. Maybe that’s what’s responsible for her fiery attitude?
Brooke glances back into the rear view mirror and notices that Vanjie is shivering while she speaks. She wonders briefly if her chatter is intended to distract from how cold she is and feels a pang of sympathy. God damn it. “There’s a fleece in the foot well behind my seat.” Brooke says, and it’s probably the longest sentence she’s said this entire journey.
As Vanjie lunges gratefully for the fleece and then shrugs it around her shoulders, she swears she sees her blushing beneath that thick makeup.
“I like your pin, Officer.” Vanjie says, causing Brooke to look back at her once more. She sees that attached to the lapel of her fleece is a small lesbian pride badge. Brooke has never been ashamed of her sexuality, but feels somewhat uncomfortable watching the younger woman twirl the pink striped flag in her fingers. She didn’t need any more prompting to make further unacceptable jokes.
“It’s Officer Hytes.” Brooke tells her, hoping to distract from the pin and get Vanjie prattling on about some other nonsense once more.
But apparently, Vanjie would not comply. “You know, I knew you was checking me out.” She says with a smirk. Brooke grips the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles go white.
“That’s very inappropriate.” Brooke snaps.
“Why’d you do it then?” Vanjie retorts quickly.
Brooke can’t decide whether she is angry at Vanjie for showing such a blatant lack of respect, or at herself for getting caught checking the younger woman out. “Are you fucking kidding me? How dare you.” She sneers through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to yell. Her jaw tenses in anger and she can feel her breathing grow heavy.
To her credit, Vanjie throws up her hands in defence. “Sorry. Just trying to have a little fun.” She laughs. Brooke is practically seething with anger, this isn’t supposed to be fucking fun. Why won’t the little brat take this goddam seriously?
She has almost cooled herself down, when Vanjie speaks again. “How far away is the station? Cause I was thinking we could go through a drive-thru or somethin’?”
Brooke has to pull the car over to the side of the road so that she doesn’t crash in a blind rage.
“Do you understand the fact that you’re getting arrested? I’m a law enforcement officer and you have committed a crime. You’re going to jail. Can you really not see the seriousness of what is happening, or are you just that fucking stupid?” Brooke practically screams at the younger woman. She should be ashamed of herself. She’s lost her cool and allowed Vanjie to provoke her to anger to a dangerous extent.
Vanjie’s face falls and her breathing is heavy. Her big, doe eyes look look, briefly, petrified. Brooke feels disgusted with herself for raising her voice and frightening her. “I ain’t never been arrested before, so I don’t know how I gotta act.” She says with an awkward laugh, but she looked like she might cry.
Brooke sighs deeply as she stares at Vanjie, taking in her appearance once more. Her fleece looked huge on her, despite the fact that Brooke was slim too. It was far too long and the excess material pooled in her lap and around her fingertips, making her look both small and vulnerable.
“How old are you?” Brooke asks softly.
“Twenty five.” She is older than Brooke thought she was, but still young. It occurs to her briefly that she could be lying about her age, as she did with her name, but for some inexplicable reason she knows that she isn’t
Brooke sighs again, softly this time. This woman is young and has never been arrested before. Sure, she is loud, inappropriate, brash, rude, and makes Brooke frustrated as all hell, but all she’d really caught her doing was loitering on a street corner. She doesn’t need to arrest her tonight. “You’re free to go.” She say with a soft smile, pressing the button on the console to unlock the car doors.
Vanjie blinked at her in silence for a moment before glancing around out of the car window. “Ain’t you gonna take me back to where you found me? I don’t know how to get home from here.”
Brooke laughs, breaking the tension in the car. She had to be the first person in history to ask to stay in the back of her cop car for any longer than necessary. “Get in the front seat then.” She smiles warmly.
Vanjie, instead of exiting the car and getting back in like a normal person, clambers over the centre console into the passenger seat, causing Brooke to roll her eyes and chuckle lightly.
“So am I un-arrested?” Vanjie asks, chewing her bottom lip nervously.
“Yes, you’re un-arrested.” Brooke smirks back. Then, fuck it, what the hell. “How about I take you to that drive-thru after all?” She asks, delighting in the enormous grin that breaks out onto Vanjie’s face in response.
A short while later, the car is fills with the wonderful scent and warmth of greasy fast food as the bag is passed through the window. Brooke hands over her card to pay the cashier, then thanks the man and pulls away from the curb. When she pulls up in an empty parking lot across the street so that they can eat their burgers, she sees that Vanjie is holding out a fist full of crumpled dollar bills.
“Consider this an apology for losing my cool.” She shrugs, waving the money away.
Then, that blush is back. Creeping up Vanjie’s cheeks and making Brooke’s heart tighten in her chest. “Apology accepted, baby.” She smirks back.
They eat their meals in relative silence, considering the non stop onslaught of conversation Brooke has suffered up until this point. Vanjie eats like she hasn’t had a hot meal in weeks and she’s finished her meal before Brooke has even managed half of her burger. She briefly considers going back and buying her another, but instead she wordlessly pushes the rest of her fries towards her.
Once they finish, despite the fact that Brooke is still technically on the clock, she makes no immediate move to drive out of the parking lot. Instead she opts to watch Vanjie out of the corner of the eye whilst the golden haired woman watches traffic through the window. Suddenly, a sports car barrels by, clearly over the speed limit and Vanjie snaps her head towards Brooke with a gasp.
“That bitch was speeding.” She yells brashly. “Get those sirens going, Mami, we gotta chase him.” Her body is practically vibrating with excitement causing Brooke to giggle.
She’s a grown ass woman. And she giggles.
She shakes her head softly and shrugs. “By the time I start the engine he’ll be too far gone for me to catch.” She says, ignoring Vanjie’s casual use of the word ‘we’.
Vanjie smirks, dropping back against her seat and quirking her eyebrow. “You’re one cool lady, Officer Hytes.” She grins.
“Brooke.” She corrects.
“Brooke.” Vanjie repeats back to her with a smile. “It suits you.” She says, causing Brooke to blush like a teenager.
“My real name is Vanessa.” She says after a few minutes and Brooke smiles in response. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman, she thinks before breathing in sharply, remembering why they were here. Not one hour ago, Brooke was arresting her for solicitation in the street. Brooke has nothing but respect for sex workers, but she imagines that her superiors in the force would frown upon her having a crush on Vanessa.
God, she should frown on herself for having a crush on Vanessa. What kind of woman in her early thirties still got crushes on pretty girls they’d only just met? The kind that has never had a girlfriend or any form of serious relationship, so is unable to distinguish between attraction and feelings.
“I think it’s probably about time I drive you home, Vanessa.” She says with a small smile.
Vanessa eventually is able to direct Brooke to her apartment building, which takes forever considering her style of giving directions consists primarily of the phrase ‘fuck, you were supposed to take that turning, my bad’. The building looks as though its on the verge of being condemned, but she seems unphased when calling it home as Brooke pulls up. As Vanessa is about to leave, Brooke realises that she’s still wearing her fleece.
“I’m really sorry but I need the fleece back.” She tells her remorsefully. “It’s part of my uniform.” She says, which technically is the truth. It’s just not the real reason, which is that she can’t have a potential criminal parading around in an oversized Toronto P.D. fleece. And it’s certainly not the most real reason, which is that Brooke really hopes that when she gives it back it will smell like her.
Vanessa pulls off the jacket and shivers when the bare skin of her arms, chest and midriff hits the cold air. Brooke very nearly gives it back to her.
“Well I’d say that I hope to see you again but um...” Vanessa says with an awkward laugh and Brooke understands, given the context that they met.
“I patrol this area fairly regularly. Maybe I will see you around.” Brooke says, desperately trying to sound casual.
“Well I’ll look forwards to it, Mami.” She replies with a grin. Hopping out of the car and practically scampering up the stairs to the the entrance to the building.
Brooke had no doubt that her heading for the building was just for show and that before too long, she would be back out on that street corner in the freezing cold.
-x-
After that night, Brooke makes sure to check that corner every weekend. She keeps an eye out for the girls, breaking up fights and monitoring their safety as she usually does, but she always keeps an eye out for Vanessa. Not that she would be hard to miss, since when the other girls scatter she remains put, waving when she drives past.
A few weeks after that first night, Brooke notices that Vanessa seems to have a little less energy and enthusiasm than usual, so she stops by the drive thru and circles back to take her some food. The wide, dazzling smile she gets in response makes breaking the rules worth it.
Two weeks later, Brooke brings her a large, black, hooded sweater to wear, in case she gets too cold. Winter was rapidly approaching and the nights would only get colder. She knows that Vanessa will never wear it over her skimpy outfits whilst she works, but maybe she will wear it on the walk too and from home.
Maybe she will wear it as she curls up in bed at night.
-x-
Brooke has known Vanessa for around two months when the first blizzard of the season hits. She completes her usual weekend route, seeing almost no girls working on account of the snow. When she arrives at Vanessa’s corner, she’s almost disappointed to see that she’s not there, but she’s glad that she has the good sense to stay indoors.
But of course, Brooke’s anxiety doesn’t let her rest. What if she’s with a customer and he’s about to drop her off into the freezing cold? What if she’s sick? What if she’s expecting Brooke to bring her food, like she usually does, and Brooke misses her? What if, what if, what if? Over and over again in her mind until she pulls over to the side of the road. She decides to give it fifteen minutes.
Then twenty minutes.
Then half an hour.
Finally, Brooke decides enough is enough and she has to move along. She doesn’t stop worrying about Vanessa for the rest of the week.
-x-
It’s been three weeks since Brooke saw Vanessa last and the pounding sense of anxiety hasn’t stopped. The feeling only worsens when, on a snowy, Tuesday evening, she gets a call on the car radio calling for a response to a domestic dispute at an address she recognises instantly. Vanessa’s building.
There’s no guarantee it’s her, but somehow, Brooke just knows it is. She switches on her lights and sirens and practically slams the gas pedal to the floor.
When she arrives, she sees Vanessa standing in the street, screaming at a woman leaning out of a second floor window. If Brooke thought Vanessa was at a ten before, she was so very wrong. Her tenacious rage seems to be in jarring contrast with her petite frame and soft, tiny outfit. Brooke is beginning she didn’t own any skirts longer than that which barely covers her ass.
Quickly, Brooke jumps out of the car and puts on her professional front. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down.” She says as she approaches Vanessa, but the young, fierce woman doesn’t even register her presence. She continues to scream at the woman in the window, who screams back equally as loud.
“Fuck you, you stupid ass hoe. Kicking me out of my own damn apartment, you stupid motherfucker. You think you cute up there lookin’ at me, well just wait till I get back up there, you two faced cunt, I’ll show you what’s up.” She yells, her brash, gritty voice straining slightly. Brooke wonders how long she’s been going, and how long she could keep this up for.
As she glances between the building and Vanessa, who has two large duffel bags at her feet, she begins to piece together what’s happening. Authoritatively, she steps forwards and places herself between Vanessa and the window and her fingertips graze the younger woman’s arm as she passes. She’s ice cold to the touch.
“What’s the problem here?” She says, glancing between the two women.
“This bitch is two months behind on rent, so she’s leaving.” The woman in the window yells down.
“Fuck you, Yvie, I’m going nowhere.” Vanessa yells back, like a petulant child.
Brooke sighs. She wants to help, she really does, but Vanessa is clearly in the wrong. Plus, she’s screaming abuse in the streets like a lunatic. Any cop in their right mind would caution her there and then.
“Is this true?” She asks, turning back to Vanessa. It seems as though Vanessa only just notices that Brooke isn’t just any cop, which may be due to the fact her platinum blonde hair is piled up inside a beanie. Her eyes go wide with recognition, then fall slightly. She looks embarrassed.
“No.” She mumbles, crossing her arms against her chest. “Are you gonna force her to let me back inside or what? It’s freezing.”
Brooke sighs deeply again.
“You know I can’t do that.” She says, so quietly that only Vanessa can hear her.
Her eyes go wide with fury, and Brooke thinks she may go off again, but then her shoulders slump with defeat. “Fuck you.” She spits nastily, grabbing her bags from the floor and stomping away from her.
“Wait, where are you going to go?” Brooke asks, ignoring the fact that it was far too familiar sounding to any prying ears.
Vanessa turns back and glares at her. “The fuck do you care for?” She snaps. Her eyes are filled with rage and tears. Her entire body is shivering. God fucking damnit, she’s going to have to arrest her just to get her off the streets tonight. The cold could quite literally kill her.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me to the station.” She says remorsefully.
“Really, this shit again?” Vanessa yells harshly. Brooke nods firmly and moves her hand to the cuffs on her belt, indicating that they can do this the easy way or the hard way. Vanessa glares at her, but seemingly decided that fighting is not worth the energy, so she stomps past her, flings open the back door and bundles herself into the seat with her bags.
Brooke glances around nervously, hoping that nobody noticed the overly personal argument between the two women, then follows Vanessa back to the car and gets into the driver’s seat. She’s only been driving for a moment when Vanessa speaks.
“What’s the plan now when, Officer Hytes.” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You gonna arrest me for nothin?”
Brooke glances back at Vanessa who is sat in the middle of the back bench with her bags on either side of her. She’s shivering violently and she doesn’t know if its from the cold or the rage. “You were causing a public disturbance and shouting abuse in the street.” Brooke says calmly, turning up the heat to full blast as she does.
She expects Vanessa to start screaming, but instead she brings her thumb and forefinger up to wipe tears from beneath her eyes. She curls into herself and doesn’t look up.
“You need to get out of the cold.” Brooke says apologetically.
“And you think landing my ass in jail is the best way to do that?” She says in a tone so soft that it startles Brooke.
She grips the steering wheel and takes a deep breath, focusing on the road in front of her and trying to work out what to do next. The truth is, she really has no idea. She can’t let her freeze to death on the street, she can’t force her roommate to let her back in, she probably shouldn’t arrest her, but that left very few options. Briefly considers taking her to a women’s shelter, but she doesn’t imagine that any will have space, given the blizzard.
Brooke sighs deeply, looking at Vanessa in the rear view mirror once more. “Do you really have nowhere to go?” She asks and she shakes her head softly.
“Well then I guess you’re going to have to come home with me.”