goldman's detective agency / Five Hargreeves x gn!reader

101 - Good Night

‟ i know that you are impatient / i guess it's Five after Nine o'clock „
gone 2, slow pulp

"Where the fuck did you get a fake ID from?" Five muttered over a glass of whiskey. He was eyeing you carefully, almost cautiously.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your own beverage. "It's surprisingly easy to do," you said. "How else am I meant to pretend I'm from here?"

He quirked an eyebrow up at you and downed the rest of his glass. The music was loud and there was a constant hum of chatter. Sequins sparkled in the corner of your vision and heels clacked against wooden flooring, muddying the beat of the song.

After asking around the second boxing ring in Dallas, the two of you had ascertained Luther's whereabouts to be the Carousel Club in town; a burlesque bar with dancers and, on occasion, important clientele. It was already approaching evening, given that Dallas was quite a big place to walk through. Your legs were tired and the Commission-funded drink in your hands was doing what it could to pick up your mood.

"What do you want, Five?" Luther grumbled from behind the pair.

Five rolled his eyes. "What I want is for you to stop pussy-footing around me like an ambitious stripper and sit down."

Luther caught sight of you as he carefully took a seat next to Five. "[Y/N]?!"

"Luther, hello," you returned wearily. "How have you been?"

He looked you over, "You don't... look too different. Five take you with him?"

"No. I've been here for three months."

Five knocked on the table with the back of his hand. "As much as I would love to let you two exchange the most surface-level conversation I've had the displeasure of hearing, we've got more important matters right now."

There was the sound of a disagreement from elsewhere and Luther got up from his seat abruptly. "I've gotta go. We'll talk later."

"Luther, wait-"

"Look, I've been stranded here for a year thanks to you," he glared. "I thought everyone was dead. And now you just waltz in here and..."

"I'm sorry. That can't have been easy," Five sighed, getting to his feet. "I know what it's like, to be stranded in a different timeline, to be-"

"I really don't have time for this," muttered Luther, turning away to attend to his boss.

Five grabbed his brother's wrist, immediately disliking the sensation of the physical contact. "Luther, please, I need your help. The world is ending in ten days and I have no idea how to stop it."

"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning his back to the pair of you and stalking away.

Five immediately got up and scrambled after his brother. You sighed, watching the interaction from the table as you finished your drink. It would work out, in the end. The club was lively and you couldn't make out their words. After you watched Luther easily drag the man you assumed to be Carl from the venue, Five stalked back to the table with a second drink.

"Dad should've left him on the moon," he glowered.

You snorted, putting down your empty glass. "Didn't go well, I'm guessing?"

"He's working for Jack fucking Ruby and he couldn't give less of a shit about the end of the goddamn world."

You tapped his drink. "C'mon, finish up then. No point hanging around if he's not gonna change his mind."