anyone want to buy me a plane ticket to ny to see this

anonymous asked:

prompt: Rosa goes to a classy hotel bar in London to get over a slump and hooks up with a lady (quill? ;)) except she accidentally calls out Ginas name whoops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Of all the prompts, this one got the most out of hand, lmao, but it’s probably because we’ve discussed it before, Michelle (nice try with the anon, though, you’re fooling no one), and I had Ideas. 

Behold, Rosa trying to get over Gina by sleeping with a hot weirdo, only for said hot weirdo to prod her into going back to win her girl. 

You can also read it on AO3!

I’ve never written for B99 before so I’m pretty nervous, so please let me know how I did!!

It really sucks, having feelings.

After the whole “jail” fiasco, that she does her hardest to forget everything about, things should really have gone back to normal. But they don’t. She breaks up with Adrian, because even though there’s a part of her that he’ll always get in a way no one else will, she’s not sure it’s a part of herself she wants emphasised.

Really, it all comes down to Gina. And being really fucking mad at herself when it comes to everything about Gina. Gina being with someone else, Gina being happy with someone else.

Rosa possibly having once had the power to avoid all of that, if she hadn’t denied her own feelings for so long. For too long.

She’s missed her shot. And it really fucking sucks.

She tells everyone she needs a vacation to clear her head after the Hawkins thing. Really, she just needs a break from everyone and everything familiar to her. A chance to forget. A chance to go somewhere she doesn’t know, and drink until things feel less shit.

She buys a ticket to London, and there’s two Nancy Myers movies on the plane. On one hand, they make her feel better, but they also remind her of Adrian and how much she fucked that up (he had not taken the break up particularly well, but given his disposition, it could have been a lot worse). Also, thinking about romance isn’t ideal at all. She puts on action movies for the rest of it, but avoids Die Hard because it makes her think of the Nine Nine too much.

London, it turns out, is comforting in the sense that it’s big and busy like New York, but also totally unlike New York in its own way too. Best of both - different, but not enough to disorientate.

She checks into her hotel and then heads out to find a bar after dressing up a bit. After playing it rough for so long, she hasn’t had a chance to wear a nice dress in a while, so she tries to find a place that’s a bit classier.

The place she ends up in has nice booths and well dressed patrons that don’t look too boring, so Rosa is counting it all as a plus. She sits at the bar, orders three shots of tequila to start, and downs them instantly. Then she orders a glass of whiskey and nurses it more slowly.

It’s a couple of minutes before another glass of the same is put in front of her.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Rosa says to the bartender.

He just nods towards one of only two corners of the room visible from where Rosa is sitting, and she follows his gaze to the blonde woman sitting in the corner booth and watching her intently.

Rosa eyes for her a moment, finishes her first whiskey without breaking eye contact, and takes the gifted whiskey with her to the stranger’s booth.

“Hey,” Rosa says, nodding before sitting down.

“Hey yourself,” comes the reply, as the really very attractive stranger sips at her extremely colourful drink. She’s got a blonde bob and bangs - or do British people call it a ‘fringe’? - and it’s not a hairstyle Rosa’s particularly cared for before, but somehow this woman makes it look different.

“Thanks for the drink.”

“I’ve got to admit, I wasn’t sure it was going to work,” the woman says, making a face. “This is my first time trying any of this stuff, I don’t really understand all of the social cues.”

“Solid half of all social cues are dumb as hell anyway, don’t worry about it,” Rosa says, shrugging. “Besides, you did it just fine.”

“Did I really?” She looks rather impressed with herself. “Huh.”

They fall into a long, awkward silence. Rosa realises that she is going to have to be the one to advance the conversation by way of personal inquiries. It’s a fairly horrific thought.

“… what’s your name?” she asks, resisting the urge to make a face just from having to get the question out.

“Quill. You?”

“… Rosa.” She’s not sure if Quill has given her first name or her surname, but realistically, she doesn’t really need to know.

“I’ve not met many Americans,” Quill says after a brief silence, voice thoughtful. “I work with one, but she’s overly short and rather irritating. Scared of me, though, which is nice.”

Rosa smirks. “All of my colleagues are scared of me. Even though they’re my friends, too. Still terrified. It’s pretty awesome.”

“Impressive,” Quill replies, lifting an eyebrow. “What’s your occupation?”

“I’m a cop, NYPD. You?”

“Schoolteacher,” Quill says, making a face of extreme distaste. “Unfortunately. Physics. I teach physics. To a bunch of idiotic, obnoxious teenagers.”

“Yeah, teenagers are the worst,” Rosa agrees. “I could never do that.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty shit.” Quill takes a large gulp of her drink. “So, what brings you to this side of the earth, then? I’m assuming the NY is for New York.”

“Duh,” Rosa says, trying to act like she hasn’t tensed up at the thought of what - or rather, who - has driven her here. “And, I dunno. Dumb stuff. Needed a change of scenery. And to not see anyone I know for a while.”

For some reason, Quill finds that strangely amusing, and snorts into her drink. Rosa narrows her eyes at her.


“Nothing,” Quill says. “You’re just not a very good liar.”

“Excuse you, I’m an amazing liar,” Rosa growls.

“Prove it.”

Rosa lifts an eyebrow. “Okay. Two truths, one lie. You played before?” Quill shakes her head, but her eyes are intent, serious, and interested. She’s game. Rose normally despises this game, despises telling other people anything about herself. However, she also never backs down from a challenge. “Exactly what it sounds like. I say two truths and a lie. You try to work out which one is the lie.”

Quill quirks an eyebrow, and her lips twitch too. “Alright.”

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