Capable of Love - Prologue
Cosmetics: divider by @pixopix
Pairing: Adrian Chase x Pink Lantern!Female!Reader
Summary: You're back on Earth for a while, only to find that you're now in charge of the alien threat terrorizing Western Washington
Tags: 18+ MDNI, no use of y/n, fluff, miscommunication trope, mutual pining, slow burn,
“I don’t do black ops, Guy.”
He tilts his head, stupid bowl cut grazing his eyebrows. He wanes that obnoxious ‘be reasonable’ look. As if Guy Gardner, of all people, knows anything about being reasonable.
“Mori says that we now have jurisdiction over alien threats now. Given that we’re, ya know.” He flings his hand in an exaggerated gesture to his ring.
“Space Cops?” You cock an eyebrow and watch him shift his feet. “I leave Earth for barely a year and suddenly the place is falling apart at the seams. If Secretary Mori thinks of us as space cops, then what makes him think he has the authority to assign us cases?”
“Look, Pinky,” you frown at Guy's condescending nickname. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but if we don’t comply with the United States, they’ll shut down the Justice Gang. I am not going to be put in the position to find a real job because you don’t want to do a very simple mission.”
“So you are going to take your happy ass to Evergreen, Washington,” he continues, shoving a folder against your armored chest. “You’re going to go play nice with Checkmate, you’re going to stop an alien threat and have a great time doing so.”
“Why don’t you do it, you prick?” You spit back. He gently places his hand over his heart.
“I am busy with Justice Gang try-outs. We’re going to South America this week, and as the leader I need to be-”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Kendra told me that you won’t stop bitching about try-outs. Tell me the real reason you don’t want to go!” Your hands mindlessly drift to your scalp, where you squeeze the strands in your fingers, attempting to alleviate the burgeoning headache. His eyebrows furrow, offense painting his face.
“You and Kendra hung out without me?”
“And Michael,” you jab. He gasps. If Guy wore pearls, he’d be clutching them now. His fellow Justice Gang members hanging out without him – and with a Lantern by another corp at that. You cross your arms, and his sudden sour mood coaxes a smirk to your lips. “Yeah, we got Margaritas last night, and we talked so much shit about you and your stupid haircut.”
He nods slowly, taking in your taunt. “Words hurt, Pinky.”
“Stop. Calling. Me. That!” You yell. “Tell me why you don’t want to go to Evergreen.”
“Fine!” He plops down on the orange chair behind him, letting a loud sigh escape in the process. “There’s this fucking guy on the team. ‘Says I’m into vomit. I hate that fucking guy, and I can’t deal with him. Okay? So will you just go do this for me? Please?”
Your lips curl in, working to suppress the laughter bubbling up from your belly.
“Guy… That’s so pathetic that I question how the hell you were chosen for the Green Lantern Corp in the first place.” His jaw sets, and his eyes roll at your insult. “I’ll do it. But you owe me. Big time.”
“Deal.”
You sit at the edge of an orange ottoman, and examine the dossier. The paper inside the folder is thick, like cardstock. Maxwell Lord really spared no expense, even after erecting this gaudy building. Hall of Justice my ass. The team would be fine with a regular office, and would surely benefit from Lord donating the money he spent on this knock-off castle to the needy. More resources means less crime. But what do you know, you’re just a ‘space cop’ to these people.
The intel in the dossier was sent by Checkmate regarding an alien threat. Five people were already found dead, with many of their organs stolen. The motive for the killing is unknown, but it is believed that there are more than one culprit, due to the impossible timing of two of the deaths. They are said to be humanoid, with dull horns that run all the way down their limbs, with black eyes, dead like a shark, and pale blue skin. Three of the bodies were found in their homes, with no signs of a break-in. One was found in an alley way outside a string of bars, and the last was found in a hotel room, which had two guests listed on the reservation: the deceased, Frank Alerson, and Frankina Al.
So that’s obviously an alias.
Police are investigating, but Checkmate was hired by the loaded surviving wife of Alerson, Kiara Joel-Alerson. Once this Frankina is identified, it should be an easy job. In, out, back to the Cosmos. The one obstacle – this didn’t sound like any species you’ve ever heard of anywhere across all 3600 sectors of space.
