Rᴇᴅ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ Lɪᴠ’s Fɪᴀɴᴄᴇ, Jᴀʀʀᴇᴛᴛ, ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.
He’d always been so careful about popping into Liv’s place, because though he didn’t think it was a big deal, he understood and respected how she wanted to keep this relationship between Red and herself secret from her police officer fiance. So he usually tried to check in some cosmic way, before he came in, make sure he wouldn’t open the door and find them on the couch together, or even worse–Jarrett alone.
Of course today Red had forgotten, he’d simply bypassed his usual system and as the door’s deadbolt began to jiggle and twist, Jarrett’s concentration snapped to the door. He was up and pointing his service pistol at the door before the lower lock began to jiggle as well. He knew the difference between someone struggling with keys in the lock and someone breaking in, and he wasn’t about to let someone bust in without knowing exactly whose home they were breaking into–that of a police officer and his soon-to-be wife.
Red opened the door like nothing was wrong and came face to face with the barrel of the gun.
“Ah. You must be Jarrett!”
Bowie, perhaps thankfully, hopped off the couch and enthusiastically began to shove his face under Red’s hand, expecting pets. Jarrett kept the gun on him, but the stiffness of his position softened.
“How come my dog knows you an’ I don’t? And why’re you breakin’ into my place?”
Red smiled, “Relax, officer, lower the weapon–wouldn’t do you too much good, anyway–I come in peace. I know your fiance, Liv.” He didn’t seem particularly scared, which made Jarrett wary, but he lowered the weapon
“How do you know Liv?”
“I ah, hm. Perhaps that’s something we should all talk about together–when will she be back, do you know?” He keeps eyeing the gun, thankful it’s no longer pointed at his face. That’s when he has enough time to really see the blonde, mop-headed man. “Oh, now that’s ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ! I wonder why she never told me she was engaged to an angel. How handy that must be for her, especially considering her hands.”
Whatever bit of tenuous peace had started to fall between them instantly fell away. Whoever this was could see him–really see him. The gun goes back up.
“Honestly, the gun’s not going to do anything if you try to sh–”
“Listen, mister, I don’t give a right fuck. You’re gon–”
“I didn’t know angels could swear, what an in–”
“Shut up!” he cocked the gun, “Shut up or I swear t’God I’ll shoot you.”
Red paused. “Wait, are you even allowed to cause harm? Isn’t there something in your cherubic handbook about that? How on earth do you continue serving the police force if you can’t sh–”
The gun was awfully loud. People would be calling 911 any minute now. Red just looked down, frustrated.
“Do you have any idea how much this suit costs?”
Jarrett had half a mind to shoot him again. It made him feel better, even if it looked like only the clothes were affected. “I don’t, and I don’t rightly care, neither. Stop. Talking. Tell me who and what the fuck exactly you are.”
Red watched him for a moment, fascinated. “You can call me Red. I suppose, in the grand scheme of things, I’m somewhere across the spectrum from you, a little above on that side of the graph, but not quite on the level of your Exalted Father. Some of the fae-folk call me a god, but I think that’s more a pandering to my ego than my actual description,” He inclines his head, a bit of a nod. “Liv’s a wonderful little GPS when things are proving particularly difficult to find.”
The gun only went down because Jarrett really was about to shoot him again. Bowie was shoving at the hand the gun was in, whimpering, he knew guns in the house was bad.
“It’s fine, Bow, I’m good,” a pause, “ah, shit, the cops’re gonna come to the house if I do–”
“Don’t worry about it,” Red interjected with a flick of his wrist, the faithful tick-tick-tick-ing of the clock stopped. “I’ll be right back.”
Jarrett was left immobile, mid-scratch on Bowie’s neck, as Red just disappeared. He really only was gone about a minute or two, and the tick-tick-tick of the clock started up again and Jarrett nearly fell forward when he regained the ability to move. “What the hell was that?”
Red grinned at him, “No one heard you shoot at me now. Don’t worry, no one’s coming. Sit, I’ll make some tea–or perhaps some whiskey if you’d prefer–and we’ll get to know each other.”