Work Text:
The Take Down
“BPD, freeze!” Jack Gregory’s eyes widened as he jolted and dropped familiar metal picks to the ground. “Put your hands behind your head and stand up slowly.” Emma commanded, inching closer.
Panic flashed across Gregory’s pale face. “Aww, shit, Blondie, not today.” the perp groaned, before making a break for it.
“Oh for god's sake!” for a split second, her eyes rolled to the sky, before Emma shoved her gun back in its holster and sprinted after him. She did not need this today. She should’ve just let Booth take this one, but nooooo, she’d been practically bored to tears stuck in their car and just had to insist she follow their perp once he’d finally turned up.
“Perps making a break for it, down East and Fifth, Swan in pursuit!” August's voice on the radio crackled over the indignant shouts of pedestrians as Gregory unceremoniously shoved them out his way.
“Sorry… hey, coming through... BPD OUT OF THE WAY!” she yelled, leaping over a fallen ladder. Not a lot she could do to restore the peace until she caught the bastard.
Emma was gaining ground, before Gregory suddenly took a sharp right, darting straight across the park. Pumping her arms faster, she leapt the gate Gregory slammed shut behind him, in a desperate attempt to buy himself a few seconds on his lead. Flying across the grass, she saw him doge a family, and huffed out a snort as an elderly woman, likely the family’s grandmother, let loose a string of curses that’d shame a sailor and attempt to whack him with her handbag.
Nearly mowing down what was definitely a class field trip, Emma powered on through the park. Gregory was only a few metres ahead now, clearly trying to dodge across the road, when she first noticed them.
They were customary bright red, looming half way up the block. Gregory, obviously (stupidly), believed the fire trucks ahead would provide good cover to lose her and dived behind an engine.
Fucks sake. She did not sign up for a marathon sprint this morning. And that bear claw for breakfast was suddenly feeling a little like lead in her stomach.
Knowing he was only seconds ahead of her, and with her new audience - oh god, of course it was them, she mentally groaned at her shit luck today - Emma pushed ahead with a renewed sense of desperation. Gregory might only be a low level crook, but she’d be damned if he got away in front of her - what, boyfriend? Beau? She really needed to figure out where she stood on labels - her whatever-he-was and his crew.
Swearing as she caught sight of Gregory, Emma swerved to avoid a car pulling up to the scene.
Fuck, where’d he go? She had eyes on seconds ago but in the muddle of cars, emergency vehicles and uniforms drifting around, she’d lost him.
Pausing a second to catch her breath, she heard her name over the shouts and rumble of the engine. “Swan! What’re you doing here? I understand you miss my face, doll, but-”
She hissed her response, cursing his big mouth, “Not now Scarlett, I’m kinda busy here!”
She spotted Gregory ducking behind the next car along and quickly cast her eye around, searching for the quickest route to him without alerting him she was onto his hiding place. If Will hadn’t already done that for her.
Slipping between cars, she rushed on Gregory’s hiding spot. Almost there, she just had to get around this last - fuck. Gregory glanced over his shoulder and clocked her straight away. Springing up in panic, he went to dart out from his hiding spot, clearly aiming to head directly across the cleared space between the sidewalk and fire truck parked on the opposite side of the road.
For fucks sake, he was not getting away and she was absolutely not doing another sprint across downtown after some low life creep.
Making a split second decision, she threw herself forward, planting her hand in the middle of the hood of the car in front of her and propelled herself over onto the concrete on the other side. A few long strides, a well timed dive and she was grabbing Gregory around the shoulders, dragging him to the ground.
Rolling with the force as they both went down, she hissed in pain as the gravel scraped her palms and wrists. Scrambling upright, she jammed her knee into Gregory’s back and planted her hands on his wrists to secure him before he even registered that he was down.
She could hear the whistles and shouts of excitement from behind her but didn’t look up - Scarlett, ever the annoyance, was loudly declaring something about being hot, and fuck did you see that, KJ… Swan’s got styleeeeee…
She let out a frustrated groan and she pushed her knee further into Gregory’s back to ensure he got the message to stay down as she blindly grappled for her cuffs from her waistband.
“Jack Gregory, you’re under arrest on suspicion of breaking and entering and suspected involvement in the Lyle Street robbery.” She read him his rights, as she clicked the cuffs around his skinny wrists, before leaning back to grab her radio. “This is Swan, I have the perp cuffed on…” she chanced a glance around, looking for any indication of exactly where she’d chased Gregory, steadfastly ignoring the growing group of firefighters clamouring for her attention to her left. “Outside Miller’s Bistro, south of Green Park. Look for the BFD, you can’t miss us. Over.”
The radio crackled as August’s response came through, “Copy that, Swan. Bet BFD is loving the show, please tell me its Engine 12!” Emma rolled her eyes, Scarlett’s cackles in the background of her call answer enough for August.
“Just get your ass and the car over here asap, Booth. One of us put some damn effort into catching this guy, ‘least you can do is chauffeur us back to the station.” she sassed him back before clipping her radio back to her belt.
Knowing Gregory wasn’t going anywhere, judging by the muttering and huffing going on below her, she knew it was time to face the music, or rather, face whatever drivel Scarlet has cooked up in the minute since she’s crashed into their scene.
Glancing up, she raised her chin defiantly, ignoring the burning sensation rising up the back of her neck, daring one of the assembled firefighters to take the piss. They were gathered in a loose line off to her left, clearly in no hurry to remove her from whatever scene Gregory had decided to disturb. Fixing her eye’s on the safety of Robin’s broad grin, she ignored Scarlett hovering to the end of the line, still demanding her attention like an overgrown child. Robin went to say something but was cut off.
“SWAN! That was so badass, darlin’, like somethin’ straight outta movie! Mate, did you see your girl, that was HOT!”
“I swear to god Scarlett, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll shut it for you.” the tone was joking, and Emma couldn’t help but grin at the retort, her eyes finally meeting Killian’s bright blue.
They were dancing in excitement, his trademark smirk replaced by something that made her stomach tighten. Killian grinned wider - how? How was his smile so perfect? This was so unfair - as she met his gaze, chest puffing up in what she suddenly realised was - oh shit, he was proud of her and he hadn’t corrected Scarlett and fuck, she was a complete gonner for that smile. Her answering smile was decidedly shy, she could feel her cheeks heating under his unwavering watch. So much for not showing her embarrassment. Absentmindedly, she brushed her curly ponytail off her shoulder with one hand and grasped the zipper of her jacket between her anxious fingers with the other. Of course, the moment couldn’t last.
“Yeah, Yeah, you say that but I don’t hear you denying how h-” Will was practically vibrating, gesturing wildly toward Gregory’s prone form and Emma’s rapidly heating face. God, she was on fire.
Killian’s arms crossed as he inclined his head toward Scarlett, raising an unamused eyebrow, “If you say hot one more time, I’m shoving the hose right up your -”
“Lads, come on, not in front of the lady. Though, I’m inclined to agree that that was damn impressive, Swan. Can’t say any of these lug-heads would be able to pull off quite the take down.” Robin cut in, much to Emma’s gratitude.
Oh Robin, ever the voice of reason, cutting off Will before he could push Killian’s buttons, and saving her from diving down the 'He really didn’t deny that I’m HIS GIRL' hole that her brain was trying to throw itself into.
“Thanks.” she replied. Shaking her head to clear it of the blackhole threatening to take over, she realised she was still astride Gregory, and sprung to her feet.
Gregory released a dramatic groan, “Jesus, Blondie, was that really necessary, think you got my-”
Rolling her eyes, Emma ignored the rest of Gregory’s whining tirade, focusing her attention on her new fan club. “Alright, alright, show’s over now, I’ll sign your forehead later, Scarlett. What are you lot doing here?” she demanded, eyes drifting over the members of Engine 12.
Tink was gathering up the hose that Will had blatantly dropped, rolling her eyes and shooting Emma a smile before turning to finish packing their equipment. Robin nodded at her, shooting her one last grin before indicating for the rest of the team to get back to work as Killian stepped forward.
“False alarm, called out to a flat fire to find some kid hot boxing his nana’s bathroom.” Killian’s eyes were still on her, his lilting voice sending shivers down her spine as if she hadn’t been in his presence merely 24 hours ago.
“Apartment. It’s an apartment. How long have you been here, any way?” she teased breathlessly, digging deep to find anything that resembled her signature prickly attitude yet finding herself at a loss under his gaze.
He reached gently for her hands, lifting them and inspecting the gravel rash across her palms and outer wrists as he spoke. His fingers ghosted over the injury, bottom lip pulled between his teeth, before he shot an irritated look at the perp still lying face down at their feet. “Make sure you get these cleaned, love, wouldn’t want you picking up something nasty.” she nodded in response, not quite sure how to breathe when he was so close and in public and...
Moving closer, he dropped his voice “Can’t say it’s been a huge waste of our day now though, love. And whilst I'll never admit it to the idiot's face - lord knows he’s smug enough - but Scarlett’s right. That was the hottest thing I’ve seen…” he trailed off, tilting his chin down and glancing up at her in that infuriatingly attractive way only he somehow managed to pull off. God she didn’t know if she wanted to smack or kiss that look off his face “...in the last 24 hours, at least.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and stiffened slightly under his wandering eyes. Ok. Ok. If she hadn’t been acutely aware of how much he affected her already, now it was hitting her in the face like a bulldozer. His grin told her he knew exactly what his suggestive tone was doing to her. As if memories of their last meeting weren’t currently playing on loop in his head as well. Soft sighs, teasing fingers and lips softer than they had any right to be drifting lower, lower, lower…
Smug idiot Will Scarlett may be, but it takes one to know one, and right now, Killian Jones takes top prize. The look in his eyes had long shifted from pride in her take down to blazing blue flames of desire, telling her just how much he enjoyed her little show. Now, if she could just step back and take a moment to breathe, she might be able to come up with a witty response.
She opened her mouth, trying to locate the smart mouth that David regularly told her would get her in trouble one day, when she heard August call out from behind her. Saved by the bell. Killian winked cheekily and stepped back, joining his crew as they finished packing up the scene, her hands automatically curling into fists at her sides when he dropped them. Get a grip, Swan, she griped to herself. The sharp sting of gravel rash was a welcome wake up call.
August appeared at her side just as Gregory decided to remind the world he was there. “Didn’t need a front row to that show, Blondie, pretty sure you’re violating my rights eye fucking each other like that!” August let out a loud gauff at that and nearly doubled over.
Taking a deep breath (Jesus how many of those had she had to take in what, five minutes? She needed to get over this girlie streak. Or stop hanging out with M’s.), she mentally listed all the reasons it’d be a Very Bad Idea to deliver a swift kick to Gregory’s ribs. Thank fuck Jones had wandered back to help pack their truck and Scarlett was nowhere in sight to catch that one. Neither would let her forget it. Though, she’d be inclined to believe she might enjoy the things it’d do to Jones’ already inflated ego... Showing a level of restraint David would be proud of, Emma turned to August and gave him a smack upside the head.
“Get a grip, Booth. And get him up. You owe me, after that sprint and take down -”
“In which you definitely crushed my-”
“Not interested Gregory, truly not interested.” She scowled at the man August was pulling to his feet.
Centring her frustrations on him was good. This would help. Yes. He was the reason she’d had to run on a full stomach and nearly take out what felt like half a kindergarten class worth of children in a park. His fault she’s performed one of her more spectacular take downs in front of an audience of drinking buddies and her maybe-boyfriend-definitely-fuck-buddy. Swearing quietly once again under her breath, she threw a glance over her shoulder as she turned to follow August to their car.
Bright blue eyes were still glued to her, as he watched her over Robin’s shoulder. He was leaning against the engine, arms folded, biceps - ok, turning away now. His existence was just not fair. She was Emma Swan, badass cop. Not Emma Swan, can’t even think straight because holy muscles. He had no right to look that good and affect her so much. She needed to Get. A. Grip. This was embarrassing now.
Sliding into the leather seat, she reached for her sunglasses and slipped them over her eyes. Attempting to melt into the seat, she kept her gaze fixed on her fingers fidgeting in her lap and definitely didn't let them slip up in time to see a certain inky-haired firefighter swing himself up into his truck. The tight navy cotton of his uniform shirt clung to every muscle in his back, the very muscles that she knew still bore the marks from her finger nails-
August slumping into the drivers seat and slamming his door broke her dangerous fixation. Huffing as she sunk lower into her seat, she ignored August as he swung their car into gear and took off for the station.
Yeah, definitely cutting down on the girl time.