rosé imagines

playing with fire, pt. 2

< non-idol au ; black-haired rosé >

warning: contains themes of criminal behavior, law enforcement, and criminal partnership

* * *

You shook your head in disbelief as you escorted your new "partner" out to the parking lot. Never in a million years did you think you'd end up in this bizarre situation, but here you were.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this. Working with you, of all people," you grumbled as you unlocked Roseanne's handcuffs and shoved them in your back pocket.

She rubbed her wrists and flashed you a sly grin. "Admit it, you're a little excited by the thrill of it too."

You scoffed. "The only thing I'm excited for is keeping my eyes on you 24/7 to make sure you don't try any funny business."

Climbing into the driver's seat, you glanced over to see Roseanne already settling into the passenger seat, looking far too comfortable for a criminal. You started up the engine with more force than necessary.

"First things first: you're going to give me the names and locations of all your known accomplices and hideouts. No more secrets between us if we're going to be partners," you demanded, pulling out into traffic.

Roseanne sighed dramatically. "You drive a hard bargain, detective. Fine, I suppose total transparency is needed to build trust in this new arrangement."

She proceeded to rattle off various names, addresses, and aliases she had collected over the years. You input everything into your phone diligently, satisfied to finally be gaining some real intel on her operations. One thing was clear—Roseanne's network ran deep, and you had barely scratched the surface before.

* * *

Arriving at your apartment, you turned in your seat to face her fully. "As for living arrangements, you'll be staying with me so I can keep an eye on you at all times. Consider it house arrest until we're assigned our first case."

She raised an eyebrow curiously. "Shacking up together already, are we? My, my, isn't this moving fast?"

You flushed at her insinuation, cursing how easily she got under your skin. "Don't flatter yourself. It's strictly professional. Now, c'mon, I'll show you to the guest room."

Grumbling, you led the way up to your unit and gave Roseanne the basics of your home. Her cool gaze took in every detail, assessing escape routes, no doubt. You showed her to the modest guest room and shut the door firmly.

"Get settled in. I'll be making dinner, so keep your nose clean in the meantime," you warned through the wood.

Turning, you were surprised to come face-to-face with a neighbor peeking out from her door.

"Um, is everything alright, Y/N? Who's your... friend?" she asked hesitantly, her eyes darting between you and the closed door.

You sighed heavily. "It's a long story. I'll explain later, Mrs. Kim."

Waving awkwardly, you retreated to the safety of your own space to start cooking, already exhausted from the day's chaotic turn of events. Partnering with Roseanne Park was sure to be an assignment like no other. You just hoped you were up to the challenge.

You entered your kitchen and began pulling ingredients out of the fridge with more force than necessary, still grumbling to yourself about the absurd situation you now found yourself in. Living with Roseanne Park—your one-time arch nemesis—was enough to give you a headache.

As you were chopping vegetables, you heard the guest room door creak open down the hall. Soft footsteps approached the kitchen, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Roseanne leaning against the entryway, observing you with an amused smile.