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Viggo's Break - Chapter 15.2 - Stars in the Lockit Galaxy (seven years ago)

by papillote


Warning: This work has been rated 16+.

In seven years, Viggo and Nyssa will be on the run together. Here is part of how all went wrong.

To know more, read Chapter 15.1.

Viggo paused on the threshold, scanning Mac’s for Angela, Russ or Nyssa. The bar was packed to the rafters with cops and their families. Mac himself stood behind the counter, juggling with bottles and shakers. His waitresses were moving through the throng, taking orders. Everyone was smiling, laughing, swaying to the beat. Later that night, they would all toast to Viggo.

Once upon a time, it would have made him feel like he was amidst family. Not anymore. Not since another cop had lost his life in another leaked intervention. He had just spent an entire shift cleaning up after yet another blotched operation. His skin was still cold and clammy with fear. Tension had brought about another headache, not to mention the ominous feeling he was battling, that a noose was tightening around his neck.

He caught sight of raven hair in the crowd. Angela. One brief glimpse of her gave him a respite from his constant state of dread. She had dolled up in his honor. She was lovely in her pretty blue sailor summer dress, chatting with Chad Cordello, his captain’s husband. She met Viggo eyes across the room and smiled in welcome.

He weaved his way to her, shaking hands, smiling and patting shoulders. He reached his fiancée, put an arm around her waist and kissed her soundly. “Hi, there, baby.”

“Peter.”

Chad, concealing an amused grin, slunk away.

“You wanna dance?” Viggo asked.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The dulcet tones of Norah Jones singing “Come away with me” filled the bar. Angela felt perfect in his arms. He was, as always, in awe of her. They swayed gently, and a few couples followed their example, clearing a dance-floor in the middle of Mac’s.

Viggo was watching the crowd and shutting out his partner. She finally rose on the tip of her toes to whisper in his ear, “What are you thinking?”

“I was remembering the day we met,” he fibbed smoothly. “Remember? You were wearing that pencil skirt and those razor-sharp heels. Your nearly broke your neck climbing down that ladder.”

“Oh, don’t remind me! It was the most horrible first day on a new job ever.”

“I don’t know. I thought you were hell on heels and hot as blazes.”

She swatted at his shoulder. “As if. Why the nostalgia?”

“Just thinking. Look where we are. Six years later, about to get married.” He slanted a deliberately provocative glance down her short dress. “And you’re still hell on heels.”

Only her eyes betrayed how flattered she was.

“It’s been an uphill battle to get you there, Angie, but I’m grateful for every second of it.”

Her eyes went straight into melting. “Oh, Peter…” She bent her head to discretely wipe her tears. When she looked up, she was smiling but she must have seen something behind him because her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. “Oh, my…”

He turned his head. Nyssa was coming in, wearing a red skirt and an off-the-shoulder white blouse, both entirely out of character. The skirt was long enough to cover her scarred leg while the linen top emphasized the honey tone of her skin. Her hair wasn’t tied for a change. Huge hoop earrings winked at him from under the cascade of dark brown curls.

Gipsy, he thought, thunderstruck. She spotted someone she knew in the throng and flashed them a dazzling smile. Her green eyes sparkled mysteriously. He realized that they were smoky with kohl. Her makeup was more provocative than usual. Her lips were a shade of carmine that had to be called something like ‘velvet dream’ or ‘sexy puppet’.

“Damn it. Russ is going to swallow his tongue.”

Angela tittered. “Why don’t you just stop running interference with those two?”

“I’m just watching out for her. Somebody’s got to. She’s too sweet, she wouldn’t recognize evil.”

She arched an eyebrow in that very lofty way of hers. “Russ hardly qualifies as evil.”

He bobbed his head non-committally. He wished he believed that, but there was a look in Helen Defoe’s eyes, these days, that Viggo had seen all too often. If it got much worse, he would have to call IAD on Russ. It was something he had been putting off for years. He didn’t want to be a rat.

“He’s not for her.”

She sighed. “Try convincing her of that.”

“Why not?”

“Good luck with that. And, baby? She’s trying to get your attention.”

Nyssa was indeed waving at him. He hadn’t seen her since their meeting with Defoe in the shadowed parking-lot. “Might be important,” he said. “Do you mind…?”

“Go ahead. I’m going to mingle.”

“Thanks, baby.”

Angela kissed him on the cheek and walked away. Viggo took Nyssa’s hand, dragged her on the dancefloor. He twirled her, sending her skirts flying. She laughed, happy and startled. “I like how you greet your guests, birthday-boy.”

“Hey, you’re wearing a skirt. We’ve got to celebrate.”

She winced. “Celebrate with Angela. She’s the one who got me in these clothes.”

“How did she perform that miracle?”

Nyssa grimaced again. “She convinced me that I’d be uncomfortable if I wasn’t at my best tonight – what’s with everyone here.”

Everyone being Russ and Helen. Damn Angela’s nosiness.

“Well,” Viggo said, smiling for his friend’s sake. “Whatever the reason, you’re very pretty.”

She burst out laughing. “Yeah, right. I’m sure I look about as comfortable as you do.”

“Who said I’m not comfortable?” he grumbled, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt.

“Anyone with eyes.” Her amusement was tempered by sympathy, “Didn’t get to pick your own clothes, hm?”

“No, Angela did. She pointed out that she was dressing up for me. What were her exact words? Oh, yeah…‘What’s good for the goose’.”

“Smart woman.”

“She’s a real miracle-worker.”

And she had used her magical powers to vanish back in the crowd again.

Viggo danced in silence for a moment, Nyssa stiff in his arms. He wondered where he could dispose of his jacket and if Angela would be very cross with him if he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted after Nyssa stomped on one of his feet for the hundredth time.

“Because of my single-mindedness when I’ve been presented with a puzzle?”

He chuckled. She did have blinders when it came to her work, and a tendency to forget all about the simpler necessities of life – like eating or sleeping. She smiled brightly and relaxed a little – the music had changed to a slow, which was easier on her bad leg.

“I cracked your puzzle,” she told him.

“You did?!”

His exclamation and the fact that he had stopped short in the middle of the dance-floor attracted too much attention. He forced himself to start dancing again.

“I did,” Nyssa announced proudly, tapping a finger on her purse. “I think I’ve got the mole’s current number right here. I’m tracking it. I haven’t looked yet. Do you want to…”

“Hell, yeah. Come on.”

He grabbed her elbow and dragged her in the reserve, where it was quiet. Reluctantly, she dug a tablet out of her bag. “Maybe we shouldn’t do that without Russ…”

“Damn it, Nyssa, show me.” She fiddled with the screen and her eyes went wide and fearful. “What is it?” he asked, this tight knot in his guts making itself known again.

Shakily, she told him, “He is here…”

He snatched the pricy bit of electronics from her shaking hands. He had to see for himself. The mole was indeed…there. A little red dot blinked menacingly in the black square that signaled Mac’s on the map. He was oddly satisfied to get confirmation of what he had been dreading for weeks.

Calmly, he slipped off his jacket and concealed the tablet in its folds. Nyssa’s disbelief was at odds with his own lack of reaction when she whispered, “It’s impossible.”

“It makes sense, actually. Half the station is here.”

“I…” Her knees seemed to give out and she slumped on an unopened crate. “I just can’t wrap my mind around…”

“Now, listen.” Alarm made Viggo voice harsh. He shook Nyssa for emphasis. “You’re going to smile if it kills you. We’re going back there and you’re going to act normal. Do you get it? Nys?”

Weakly, she nodded.

To see what Russ is up to in the present, read Chapter 16.


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Mon Aug 28, 2017 12:25 pm
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BlueAfrica wrote a review...



*finally here after reading this like a week ago*

Did Nyssa not understand the mole was...in the precinct? I mean, that's kind of the point of a mole, right? It's someone on the inside. But I guess knowing that logically and then seeing that little blip that tells you it's someone right there at the party with you are two different things.

(Good thing Russ didn't come out with them, although obviously he eventually finds out that they know anyway.)

pretty sailor summer dress


This seemed like a weird detail for Viggo to notice, just weirdly worded considering I doubt he knows all that much about women's clothing? I'd think he would notice Angela's beauty rather than thinking of the dress as pretty, and then "sailor" as an adjective itself also felt like something he maybe wouldn't think.

(Not that I've read the story in a while! I hope you're going to keep up with it again now that you're back.)

I liked his thoughts on Nyssa's lipstick a lot better.

He was no specialist but...Her eyes were smoky with kohl and her lips were a shade of carmine that had to be called something like 'velvet dream' or 'sexy puppet'.


It was funny but descriptive and completely in character. I'm still giggling about "sexy puppet."

I don't know if I ever realized before reading this chapter that the night of his party and him and Nyssa dancing and Nyssa's red skirt was the same night everything went wrong. Like in previous chapters I know sometimes it came up, the night of the party and dancing with Nyssa, but the mole and his misfortunes always seemed separate - which is kind of nice, because it's like out of all the things he could remember from that night, he remembers Nyssa's smile and clothing and dancing with her. (And I continue to ship them.)

That's it for me! Post again soon, pretty please.

Image




papillote says...


I'll be posting again this week. Thank you for another review, BlueAfrica. I'm trying to write but I've got the American news on 24/7 because I'm becoming kind of fascinated with your president. It's been distracting.



BlueAfrica says...


"Fascinated" is a kinder word than anything I am with him. (Although it is true there's always the feeling of, "What insane thing could he possibly say next? How could he possibly top what he just said?" and he always delivers.)



papillote says...


Yeah, I'm familiar with the feeling. Only four years and a bit left. Good luck.



BlueAfrica says...


Only half that until midterms, and then maybe we can get some Congresspeople in there who won't just let him do whatever he wants (or who will completely ignore him and do good things so we can just kind of pretend he doesn't exist).



papillote says...


Lucky you. WE only get a say every 5 years for everyone.



BlueAfrica says...


Do you have term limits? Because if Congress had term limits, 5 years would be more acceptable. (The Senate actually does have six-year terms, so only some of them will be up for re-election, but the House has two-year terms. But since they can be re-elected unlimited times and are really good at scaring their voters into not voting for The Other Guy, some of them have held office for my entire life, even if they suck. The average length of service for both houses is 10 years, so there's that.)



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Sun Aug 27, 2017 9:46 pm
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Kale wrote a review...



Hello hello, and Happy Review Day! On behalf of the Knights of the Green Room, and as a representative of the Will Review for Food forum, I am here to rescue your work from the back of the Green Room with a (hopefully healthy) dose of #TNT .

It's been a while since I last reviewed a chapter of yours, and I honestly can't remember which chapter was the last one I reviewed (oops), but I'm looking forward to this one since it looks like a delicious flashback based on that little summary blurb that shows up in the list of works.

And oh is it a delicious one. From what I can gather, this is the night everything went wrong, yes? Or, at least starts to go really wrong.

It's a very interesting contrast to the other chapters I've read so far that show the aftermath of the betrayal, and it lends this chapter a lot of delicious irony.

You'll have to remind me to read the other parts later because I keep meaning to, and yet I keep forgetting to. XD But I am really looking forward to seeing how the events of seven years prior played out.

On a side note, I noticed that the chapters listed over to the side aren't in numerical order, and that some parts seem to be missing, particularly with respect to chapters 1 and 2. I don't know if that's deliberate, but it's something you might want to look into.




papillote says...


I'll look into it. Thank you, Kyllorac.



papillote says...


I'm not sure how to get those chapters back in chronological order so I added links to the previous and next chapters at the beginning and end of every chapter. I hope it'll be easier to navigate.




Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
— Pablo Neruda