Chapter Text
Waking up late is never an ideal way to start the day, especially when you're already cutting it close for work. Fortunately, Grian is no stranger to handling pressure and making up for lost time. After feeding his cats and making sure he had everything he needed, he rushed out the door and began a brisk walk to the permit office. Living nearby made walking far more efficient than dealing with the hassle of traffic.
“Fifteen minutes,” he mumbled to himself as he checked the watch on his wrist. “That should be enough time for me to get my usual coffee and get to work on time.” With the new found motivation to start his day with a nice cup of coffee before running late to work he sped off to the nearest coffee shop.
When Grian arrived at the coffee shop, he was pleasantly surprised to find no long line in sight. After just a few minutes of waiting, he had his coffee in hand and about twelve minutes left to make it to work. The sidewalks were usually packed with early-morning commuters, so the quiet streets caught him off guard. Still, he took it as a sign that luck was on his side. Despite the late start and the rush, everything seemed to be going his way. He had his much-needed caffeine boost in hand and plenty of time to spare, or so he thought…
As Grian rounded a sharp corner, he glanced down at his watch only to be abruptly collided with. Or rather, someone had run straight into him. The force of the impact, combined with his brisk pace and the sudden turn, sent him stumbling backward. His expression froze in a mixture of shock and dread as gravity took hold.
Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the rough scrape of cold pavement against his hands as he fell.
The only sound was the clatter of a cup hitting the ground, its contents spilling across the pavement. But Grian hadn’t fallen, he was caught, steadied by a pair of firm, reassuring arms. Blinking his eyes open, he found himself face to face with the man who had just saved him. Grian’s gaze lingered on the stranger’s features: soft green eyes filled with concern, brows knit with worry as he watched Grian regain his balance.
“I am so sorry! I should’ve been looking where I was going.” The stranger said with a slight dust of pink spread across his face as he let go of him.
Grian didn’t know what to say, he was standing there trying to process what had just happened. He opened his mouth to speak but the sudden reminder of the ticking clock pulled him back, he was still racing to clock in on time. Not saying anything Grian’s breath hitched, looking at his watch briefly before looking at his now spilled coffee on the ground. He didn’t have time to get a new coffee or even respond to the stranger in front of him.
“I’m going to be late.” Grian said hastily before he hurried past the man. His mind too focused on his attendance to care about the coffee he’d spilled or the man he failed to respond to.
Upon arriving in front of his work he took a few seconds to catch his breath before walking in. He walked through the door and was greeted by one of his coworkers and closest friends, Mumbo.
“Morning Grian!” Mumbo’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, giving a small wave as his friend walked in. “Woah, you look tired and out of breath. Are you okay?”
Grian yawned “Morning Mumbo, just trying not to be late” he said walking around the front desk and walking to the back of the office.
The permit office wasn’t particularly large. From the main entrance, it looked like any typical government office. A small waiting area sat in the corner nearest the entrance doors, furnished with chairs, a few small tables, and a single television tuned to the news. At the front was a large desk divided into three sections, each with an overhead light to show which lines were open. Behind the desk were shelves lined with books, several computers, a service window to the records room closed off with shutters and a hallway leading deeper into the office.
Grian walked to the back and swiped his office ID card to clock into work. He gave a sigh of relief as he walked back into the main office area happy to not be late. He took a seat in the section of the desk next to Mumbo.
He yawned and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the tiredness.“What happened to you?” a voice asked as someone took a seat beside Grian. Turning to look, he saw it was his other coworker, Jimmy. "He’s grumpy because he overslept and missed his precious coffee." Mumbo said with a small chuckle, earning a glare from Grian.
"I had my coffee… until someone ran into me and it spilled all over the pavement." Grian said in a disappointed mutter. “Well on the bright side, you saved money on a coffee stain removal bill!” Mumbo said lightheartedly. The coworkers laughed a little at Mumbo’s comment and continued turning their attention back to work.
“Grian! Just the man I’ve been looking for,” Cub called out as he stepped through the door leading to the back of the office. Cub was the manager of the permit office, not the strict, by-the-book type. In fact, he was known for being friendly and easygoing, as long as everyone showed up on time and pulled their weight. He was barely ever at the permit office unless something was going on that he needed to look at.
“At some point today, there’s a scheduled maintenance check for one of the silent alarm buttons that malfunctioned recently,” Cub said, flipping through the stack of papers in his arms. "Looks like you, Gem, and Martyn will be on shift when the officer arrives, so I need one of you to show him to the silent alarm system so he can fix the issue."
"Since when does an officer handle a maintenance check?" Grian asked, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that usually done by a third-party security company?"
"They usually do," Cub replied, "but with the recent spike in crime, they're short-staffed. So they're sending one of their own officers to handle the repairs this time."
Grian gave his manager a simple nod before returning back to his work as Cub left the room to go back to his office.
A few hours had passed since Grian clocked in, he still had an hour left to go, quietly counting down the minutes. By now, the permit office had slowed down, rush hour was over, and only a handful of people remained in line. Jimmy had already wrapped up his shift and gone home, with Gem clocking in to take his place at the desk.
Grian was typing out an email when the entrance door opened and in walked an officer. Grian was focused on finishing his email when the officer walked up to him.
“Why hello there!” the officer said cheerfully.
Without glancing up from his screen, Grian replied, “I’m guessing you’re here for the maintenance check?”
As he finished typing his email, he finally looked up only to be met with a familiar face. The officer wore a slightly surprised expression, which Grian mirrored with equal shock. It was the man who had bumped into him earlier that morning.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Grian muttered, dread lacing his voice.
“What- do you two know each other?” Gem asked, glancing between them, her curiosity clearly piqued. Her question also caught Mumbo’s attention, who now looked just as intrigued.
“We kind of ran into each other this morning,” the officer said with a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact, clearly embarrassed. Mumbo suddenly straightened up and let out a quiet laugh, covering his mouth and quickly turning away to stifle it when Grian shot him a quick glare in his direction.
“Isn’t it time for you to clock out, Mumbo?” Gem asked, stepping in to save him from Grian’s glare. “Oh! Look at that, it’s almost time. Martyn should be here any minute to cover for me.” Mumbo stood up, gave a small wave goodbye, and headed out to punch his time card.
As the door swung shut behind Mumbo, a slightly awkward silence settled over the room. Grian cleared his throat and crossed his arms, eyeing the officer warily.
“So,” he said, voice clipped, “maintenance check, right?”
The officer nodded quickly, “Yeah, uh, got a report that your silent alarm triggered this morning but didn’t register properly at dispatch. Standard follow-up. I’m Officer Scar. Central sent me to check the hardware and the wiring.”
“Scar,” Grian repeated flatly, as if testing how the name tasted. “Great.”
Gem nodded toward the far hallway. “Panic systems wired into the wall panel in the file archive room. Grian can show you where it is.”
“I can- wait, why me?” Grian shot her a look.
“You’re the permit coordinator,” she replied sweetly, not even glancing up. “And you’ve already made such a good impression.”
Scar gave a sheepish laugh. “Honestly, it’s fine, I can find it on my own-”
“No,” Grian cut in, already standing. “Let’s just get this over with.”
As the two men disappeared down the corridor, Gem sat back at her station, chuckling softly. Right on cue, the door opened again and Martyn strode in, all energy and disheveled charm. “Did I miss something?” he asked, tossing his bag onto a chair.
Gem didn’t look up. “Only Grian getting roped into escort duty for Officer Clumsy from this morning.” Martyn raised an eyebrow waiting for Gem to explain further. “Some officer ran into him when he was on his way to work and now they’re off to poke around the alarm panel together. What could possibly go wrong?” Gem said, leaning back, smirking.
“Should I get the fire extinguisher ready?” Martyn snorted. “Just the incident report form,” Gem said lightheartedly. “Fire would be too simple.” The coworkers laughed as they kept chatting.
The archive room was colder than the rest of the office, the kind of institutional chill that clung to old metal filing cabinets and humming wall units. Fluorescent lights flickered faintly overhead, casting long shadows across the floor. There were piles of boxes full of old files and forms. Metal shelves were in the middle of the room with more boxes and folders scattered around on it.
Grian stepped up to the wall panel beside one of the filing systems. “There. That’s your culprit.” Scar crouched beside the panel “Thanks,” he said, pulling a small screwdriver from his bag. “Won’t take long. I just need to check the wiring and reset the signal node.”
Grian hadn’t really taken notice of Scar’s uniform until now, but as he glanced over, he finally took the time to study the man’s outfit. Scar wore navy blue uniform jeans, fitted with holsters, a walkie talkie, and a white shirt tucked in but left partially unbuttoned. A cyan tie hung loose around his neck, clearly untouched, and a gold badge was pinned just beside it. One shoulder bore an orange epaulet, the other a cyan one. He was well-built, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly messy and his body seemed to be covered in scars. Grian realized he’d been staring a bit too long, quickly clearing his throat and turning away as a faint blush colored his cheeks.
Grian leaned against a cabinet, arms crossed, watching. “You always do your inspections after casually bumping into people on the street?”
Scar winced but didn’t look up. “That was an accident, man. I didn’t see you. I was looking at my phone.” He said apologetically. “That doesn’t make it any better.” Grian said brows drawing together.
“I was checking directions!” Scar defended. He pulled off the panel cover, revealing a tangle of wires. “Besides, you were walking fast.” Earning a light scoff before Grian spoke, “I walk like a normal person.”
Scar snorted under his breath. “A very aggressive normal person.”
Grian narrowed his eyes but said nothing, the silence stretching between them as Scar began tapping on the tablet he brought out from the bag of tools.
After a beat, Scar glanced up. “Look… I get it. Bad first impression. But I’m just here to fix a button, not ruin your day.”
“You already did that when you spilled my coffee,” Grian muttered. Scar chuckled, half under his breath. “At least I’m consistent.” He turned back to the panel, frowning slightly. “Huh.”
Grian looked over. “Please don’t say that while you’re messing with the alarm.”
Scar held up both hands, palms out. “No need to panic, nothing's broken. Just a weird delay in the signal log. Looks like the button might’ve been pressed, but it didn’t register until about twenty seconds later. Could’ve been a power hiccup or some signal lag.”
“Or,” Grian muttered, “maybe the universe just wanted to make sure you were the one to show up today.”
Scar smirked, popping the panel cover back into place. “If that’s the case, the universe has a pretty twisted sense of humor.” “Yeah, join the club.” Grian said dryly, Scar stood and brushed off his hands. “Honestly, it’s probably nothing. I’ll file a maintenance report and flag it for follow-up, but it doesn’t look like anything dangerous. Just... finicky.”
“So,” Scar said, glancing at Grian, “do you glare at all officers, or am I just special?”
“You bumped into me, spilled my much needed coffee, and now you’re here poking at a broken panic button like it's a vending machine. What do you think?”
Scar gave a small, mock-offended gasp. “Wow. And I thought we were bonding.”
Grian shook his head, a reluctant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
As Grian turned to open the door, a hand suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him back, making him stumble slightly. He looked up in surprise to see Scar, who wore a serious expression, brows furrowed like he was trying to concentrate on something. They were only inches apart causing Grian to blush at how little space was left between them. Before Grian could speak, Scar’s hand shot up to cover his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence.
“Woah, what was that for?” he tried to say, muffled behind Scar’s palm. Confusion flickered across his face as he turned a deeper shade of pink and red.
“Do you not hear that yelling?” Scar whispered urgently, his soft green eyes now meeting Grian’s. Grian froze, focusing his ears. Yelling wasn’t exactly rare, customers lost their tempers all the time but this... this was different. He slowly reached up to push Scar’s hand away, listening more closely. His chest tightened as the realization hit him. That wasn’t just an angry customer.
The yelling grew clearer now, sharp, panicked, not just one voice but several, overlapping in confusion and fear. Grian’s breath caught in his throat. Scar was already moving, his expression shifting from focused to alert. He pressed his back to the wall beside the door, motioning for Grian to stay behind him. One hand moved to the holster on his belt.
“Stay close,” Scar muttered, voice low but firm. “And stay quiet.”
Grian nodded, his heart pounding in his ears. He wasn’t expecting to see Scar switch from calm to commanding in a blink. It was jarring and oddly reassuring. Scar cracked the door open just an inch, just enough to peek through.
“What do you see?” Grian whispered. Scar didn’t answer right away. He was staring through the gap, unmoving. Then, just as Grian was about to ask again, he pulled back, face grim.
“Someone’s inside. They’ve locked down the front. I saw at least one guy with a weapon.” He glanced at Grian, jaw tight. “This isn’t just some customer throwing a tantrum.” He said.
Grian’s stomach dropped. “Is it a robbery?”
“Maybe,” Scar said, eyes flicking back to the door. “Or worse. I need to radio this in, we’ll need backup.” Scar reaches for the walkie-talkie clipped to his belt, pressing the side button a few times before slipping it back. He then looks at Grian and says, “I sent out a distress signal to my team, they’ll be here soon with backup.”
Grian stepped back, the weight of the situation settling in. Everything felt too quiet now, the kind of quiet that only comes before something goes really, really wrong. “What do we do?” he asked. Scar looked at him, assessing. Then, with a steady voice, he said, “We find another way out so I can stop them from leaving before backup arrives.”
Scar led the way through the cramped back hallway of the permit office, the smell of stale coffee and old paper hanging in the air. Grian followed close behind, heart thudding with every muffled shout from the front lobby. The narrow hall was lined with filing cabinets and old maps curling at the edges. Scar paused at a corner, hand resting on his holster. “We’ll try the side exit near the staff bathroom. If it’s not blocked, we can circle around and stop them from leaving and getting away.”
But Grian grabbed his arm, eyes sharp. “Wait, there’s a shortcut. Through Records.”
Scar looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Records?”
“Yeah,” Grian said quickly. “There’s a service window that opens behind the reception desk. I used to hide behind it to avoid talking to people during rush hours.” He hesitated. “Don’t judge me.”
Scar blinked, surprised. “Not judging. That’s genius.”
Grian led the way, moving with more confidence than Scar expected. He pushed open a heavy door marked “Records” and ducked into the musty room stacked high with boxes and outdated permit binders. At the far end, just as he said, a wide service window was cracked open, its little metal tray still holding a forgotten stapler.
Crouching low, Grian peeked through.
They had a clear view of the front of the office. Several people, office workers and confused civilians, were being held against the wall by two armed intruders. A third one stood by the front entrance, pacing and barking orders into a headset, glancing repeatedly at the front door.
“They’re waiting on something,” Grian whispered. “He keeps checking outside. Maybe backup. Maybe a ride out.”
Scar knelt beside him, watching silently.
“You’ve got good eyes,” he said after a moment. “Do you see anything else?”
Grian nodded, pointing. “There’s a duffel bag under the table. The guy with the headset keeps glancing at it. Could be what they’re here for.”
Scar leaned in closer, then gave a slow nod. “Could be cash. Or documents. Or something worse.” Grian gave him a quick glance “Like what?”
“I’ve worked in city buildings like this before,” Scar muttered. “Sometimes things go missing, sensitive plans, permits for restricted zones, property records. The kind of stuff someone might pay good money for.”
Grian sat back, processing that. “Great. So we’re stuck in the middle of a paper heist.” Scar smirked despite the tension. “Looks like it.”
“Okay,” Grian said, eyes flicking to the window again. “What’s the plan now?” Scar studied the layout, lips pressed in thought. Then he turned to Grian. “You think you can slip through the window and distract them?”
Grian blinked. “What?”
“Cause a scene. Get their attention. Doesn’t have to be much, just enough to pull the guy at the door away so I can come in from the side hall.” Grian sat in disbelief “That’s your plan? Me being the bait?”
Scar gave him a level look. “You’re fast, you’re small, and apparently you’re a lot sneakier than you look.” Grian stared at the window again, then back at Scar. “You owe me... something after this. Haven’t decided if I want a coffee or an apology yet.”
Scar grinned. “I promise.”
With a deep breath, Grian crouched at the window, steadying his hands. “If I get shot, I’m haunting your precinct,” he muttered. Scar gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Just don’t get shot.” Grian ducked through the opening, quiet as a whisper.
Scar watched him go, one hand on his sidearm, the other gripping the edge of the doorway. “Come on, Grian,” he murmured. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Just as they all had their backs turned, Grian landed softly behind the front desk, heart pounding so hard he was sure the robbers could hear it. The room smelled of stale coffee and printer toner, papers scattered everywhere from the earlier chaos. He stayed low, eyes scanning for anything to use.
The man with the headset was pacing, tense and agitated, eyes darting toward the door every few seconds. The other two kept the hostages corralled, guns steady.
Grian swallowed and spotted a rolling office chair nearby. Quietly, he grabbed it and gave it a firm shove toward the far wall. The chair scraped loudly against the wood floors, spinning crazily before toppling over with a loud clatter.
The robbers whipped their heads around, guns raising.
“Who’s there?!” the leader barked.
Grian froze. The man with the headset snarled, signaling his two partners to spread out. As one went to investigate the noise. Grian stayed crouched behind the desk, barely breathing. Running was off the table, too loud, too exposed. He needed something smarter. Thankfully sirens could be heard outside the entrance door. Earning the attention of all three of the intruders quickly turning the other way.
Just then, Scar burst out of the side hallway door, gun drawn and eyes locked on the nearest intruder. The robber turned, surprised, just in time for Scar to shout, “Freeze!”
Chaos erupted.
Grian took advantage of the moment, running towards the other side of the desk, grabbing the duffel bag and tossing it toward Scar. The leader lunged after it, but Scar was quicker, disarming him with a swift move, before getting him on the ground and arms behind his back as his team came through the entrance. The remaining robbers were thrown into a panic. One attempted to escape but was swiftly tackled by Martyn, acting on instinct. Two officers moved in to restrain and cuff the subdued robber, while a few others took off after the third suspect, who was fleeing through the side door near the staff bathroom.
In no time, the tension eased. The hostages began to unwind, quietly expressing their gratitude and relief. Scar crossed the room toward Grian, resting a hand on his shoulder before speaking. “You did well, Grian. More than well, actually.” Scar said, giving a reassuring smile.
Grian let out a breathy laugh, his pulse still racing. “Guess I’ve got hidden talents.” Scar chuckled. “Remind me to recruit you next time something goes sideways.” Grian shook his head with a grin. “I’d rather there not be a next time.”
After about thirty minutes of officers taking statements and checking on everyone, the civilians were finally allowed to head home. Outside the front of the permit office, Grian stood with his coworkers while Scar and his team wrapped up nearby.
"Where did you learn to tackle like that, Martyn? That was so cool!" Gem said, eyes bright with excitement. Martyn laughed, nodding toward a tall man with a name plate that read “Captain Ren” speaking with Cub a few feet away. “Perks of dating the captain of the central precinct.”
Gem grinned. “Ahh, so he’s the one you’ve been gushing about.” Martyn just smiled, the glance he shared with the captain saying more than words could. The coworkers had said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways.
Grian lingered near the sidewalk, arms crossed as he watched the last of the patrol cars pull away. The permit office looked smaller now, less like a place of dull paperwork and more like the scene of something that shouldn’t have happened. He exhaled slowly, the weight of it all starting to settle in his chest.
“You alright?” came Scar’s voice beside him.
Grian turned to see him standing there, hands in his pockets, the usual easy charm in his eyes dimmed just slightly by the day’s events.
“Getting there,” Grian said. “Kinda waiting for the crash.” Scar nodded knowingly. “It always hits after. The adrenaline, the noise... then quiet. That’s when you feel it.” They stood in silence for a moment.
“You handled yourself well in there, not everyone would’ve kept their head,” Scar added.
Grian huffed a tired laugh. “Kept my head? I pushed an office chair and hoped for the best.”
“And it worked.” Scar smiled.
Before Grian could reply, a sharp voice called out from across the lot. “Scar!” It was one of the detectives, waving a manila folder. “We found something in the duffel.”
Scar excused himself with a glance, and Grian stayed put, watching as Scar walked over to take the folder. He flipped through the contents, his expression shifting from curiosity to something more focused. Scar said something quietly to the detective, then looked back toward Grian.
Their eyes met.
Scar gave a small nod, barely there, but something about it made Grian’s stomach twist. He knew this wasn’t over.