peaches

simsgal

Rated M: Language, scenarios, theme, and sexually mature situations

I do not own Girl Meets World :(

Authors note at the end.

Prologue

Blonde Fest

It's a busy night tonight, with all the girls bustling around the dressing room, dare it be called so, trying to make last minute adjustments to their outfits and making sure not a single curl was out of place. Fridays were always packed and they had to deliver. The pressure of a million eyes and the heat of fluorescent lights fell upon them as soon as they went to perform.

"…You stepped on my fucking shoe…"

"…Pass me the red lipstick…"

"… tonight, Jerry and his boys will be out there. I want him to throw me a big ole' ring…"

All of these things kiss past a certain blonde's ears as she exhales slowly to compose herself. This was something routine to her by now, at least it should be, but before every show she still got small tingles in her stomach and had to clear her mind for the stage.

"Line up! Maya, Kara, Talia, Damia, and Jayda!" Kira's smooth and promising voice rings through the doorway as said girls stand to go line up behind stage. Maya stumbles behind a girl slightly taller than her, attempting to make careful and precise steps (well, as much as she can in five inch heels), and as they get closer to the front of the club they can hear the applause, catcalling, and excitement increasing. Kira, in her usual all black attire, creeps her way onto the stage sexily, causing the house to roar with readiness.

"Gentlemen! Ladies!" she starts, her rich voice wafting into her microphone, her high ponytail is bobbing with enthusiasm. "It's that time of the week again! Your favorite Fridays: blonde fest!" The two last words are barely heard over the audience's roar of approval and excitement. And just like that, the tune of the music begins as the called girls, all blondes, slink their way onto the stage under the bright and colored lights and booming music that seem to vibrate their entire bodies.

Maya knows how things go. She knows she needs to keep a sexy look on her face at all times, and she knows to look at Damia if she forgets her knows that she should never cringe while on stage, even if some of the neon hued lights find their way into her eyes. She can't see any faces out in the sea of expressions, but her name leaves the mouth of some lustfully, except, they don't preach her name.

They say Peaches. They cry out Peaches, hoping she will throw them a single smile with sultry pink lips, or wink with one of her distilled blue irises, throwing them into ecstasy.

With an expected groan, Lucas opens his eyes slowly as they adjust to the sunlight creeping into his window.

"Morning, sleepyhead." He turns to see his fiance folding clothes at the end of the bed. She does this carefully, making sure creases are lined up and that each garment carries the scent of fresh lavender.

"Well good morning to you, Riles." His hoarse sleepy voice rings out, a smile twitching at his lips. "You want coffee don't you?" she shakes her head quickly.

"No. Maybe I just want to be in here with you!" she says jovially as he sits up slowly.

"You can't work the coffee machine." He says, breaking her lie as her shoulders drop in admittance.

"Not yet."she proclaims in a pouty voice as he finally stands, plants a kiss on her head, and then goes the bathroom to relieve himself.

As he stands, he shakes his head to get the tightness out of his neck. He flushes, pulls his pajama pants back up, and leaves the bathroom, hating the feeling of cold tile on his feet. Knowing her partner, Riley throws the tall man a pair of warm socks. He catches them and gratefully slips them on, before sitting right next to the laundry basket and watching her routine movements. His eyes trace her fingers as they pick up one of his shirts, fold the sleeves together, and then she uses her chin to fold it the rest if the way before patting the top of it and placing it into the white plastic bin.

"You're not going to help? Just watch?" she teases him, he simply tucks a group of brunette tresses behind her perked ears and grabs a pair of her underwear and attempting to put them over her head. "Nevermind, stop that."

"I told you to never ask me for help with laundry."he reminds her as she nods with remembrance.

"I know. That was the day I got a new pair of pink jeans - " she starts before taking a pair of lounging pants from the unfolded pile.

"Very funny, Mathews." He is not amused by her mockery. "Do you want coffee or not?" he stands to go make it, he already knows her answer.

"Don't kiss me." She says and he raises an eyebrow. "You have morning breath." She is childishly gushing and stifles a shriek of laughter as he kisses her anyway; right on her natural lips, and then leaves the bedroom. It was a small apartment but nicely furnished and in a good location. It was decorated mostly to Riley's tastes, because he couldn't resist her pouty face and loved seeing her smile, and the entire living room resembled her bright and naïve persona. The kitchen on the other hand resembled Lucas: sleek, silver, metal, with a dark glint. He presses buttons on the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot, and then docks his phone onto the speaker so his favorite music plays lightly.

Riley then waltzes in, her same content and light expression across her pretty face.

"You know, I saw a baby room yesterday." She tells him for maybe the second time but he listens anyway. "I was selling this house to a couple just starting their family. I could tell it was a baby room—it screamed baby!" she excitedly pipes up.

"And?"

"Babies are cute." She starts. This talk, again. He thinks this and holds back a sigh as she sits on the kitchen table, her feet swinging. "Our baby would be really cute." They have this same conversation every other day. Riley Mathews was officially baby crazy. Sometimes she forgot about it but sometimes it sprung up at the most inconvenient times.

"Maybe. Maybe it would look like a monkey." He teases as she shoots him a look.

"Naomi would not look like a monkey, Friar!" Oh my god, Riles. Names? "Besides, you seemed really fine with a baby last week." She tells him innocently. He chuckles.

"Riley, you can get a man to agree to almost anything when you're-"

"Don't say it!" she squeaks covering her ears childishly.

"Oh please! I know your secret!" he jeers louder as she hops off the table and approaches him, attempting to cover his mouth. "You act all cute and innocent now but last week Riley- you almost killed me!" he laughs as she covers his mouth and giggles back, her cheeks flushing.

"I—I! I did not!" He removes her hand and kisses it, his finding their way around her waist.

"Oh, but you did. Why do you think I started calling you 'Little Miss Texas' last year?" her brown eyes wedge closed as she smirks deviously. "Say it."

"Because…" she begins. "I ride you to town." She groans out and he simpers at this before giving her another kiss on her pouted lips and pouring her a coffee.

"Exactly."

xxxxxx

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the city, Maya has a ruder awakening.

"Hart!" a loud bang is heard, causing the blonde to shift out of her somewhat peaceful sleep and instead shoot up, heart beating and a drop of spit running down her chin. Standing she calms herself and puts a loose hair back in its home behind her ear. "Open this door! You're three days over, sweetheart!"

"C-coming!" she replies to the harsh voice, mutters a swear, and makes her way to her dance bag. "Where did I put the…" she asks herself frantically as she looks around, her long ponytail swishing behind her, matching her demeanor.

"You have five seconds to open this-" Yanking the door open to stifle his loud octave, she invites him in with a hand gesture (facetiously) and then continues to look around for the rent submission slip. "What's your excuse this time? Sick aunt? Crazy uncle?" he taunts her, waiting for her rationale. Maya simply sighs and upon finding the paper her usual smirk curls at her chapped lips.

"Nothing, Jimbo." She starts in a jeering manner. She goes to her dance bag and pulls out the right amount of money, slips it in the rent submission slip envelope, and licks the sticky adhesive until its slick with slobber before closing it and handing it to the disgusted landlord. "375. Right there. Bam." She says before going over to second window in her small living room and kitchen area, and opening it. The city ambiance fills the room and she feels more at ease.

"Wow, thanks." Jim mumbles in an annoyed matter before rolling his eyes as Maya completely dismisses him and begins painting on her pad that sat on a peeling and rickety desk.

"Yeah…" is all she mutters, too entranced in her craft; he lets himself out and she looks over her shoulder to make sure he's gone. She releases a pent up breath and looks out of the window, past the fire escape and out into the city. The view wasn't too good but Maya could hear what she wanted to see. So, she painted what she heard. It was something that always carried her away. Made her feel like something. She sighs and stands, not wanting to paint anymore after a few annoying thoughts flow from the back of her brain.

You need to get a real job.

Painting won't pay the bills. Sperry's can't forever.

You need to do better, Hart.

Pushing them back to their depths, she instead goes to make breakfast in the trusty toaster that still hasn't given up on her. Her favorite, as of late, was hazelnut spread on toast. She reached into the cabinet and grabbed it, and then into the next cabinet and grabbed the remaining two slices of bread. The ends.

Her mother always said nothing was wrong with the ends. Ain't nothing wrong with those ends, baby. Your peanut butter sandwich will be just as good; Is what she would say, rubbing young Maya's head of then lighter and thinner blonde hair. Young Maya often wondered why the ends of the bread were so ghettoized and disliked. They tasted just the same. They kept the sandwich together just the same.

And it always was just as good.

xxxxxxx

"1…2…3…4—stop, stop. Kelie! What are you doing?" breathing heavily, Maya graciously accepts the break and puts her hands on her hips as she catches her wind. It was a little warm in the club today, which was weird for a New York September.

"I was following Fra-" Kira cuts her off with an annoyed noise and shakes her head.

"Do you want to be cut? I can cut you so fast. Jay wants perfection tomorrow, and you're not giving it to me, baby." She tells the girl softly as Kelie nods and takes a few deep breaths. Kira's tone switches as she turns to Maya's group of girls. "Maya, Missy, nice turn."

"Thanks, Kee." Missy says as she stands upright and they all get back into group. And just as Kira is about to tell the DJ to start the track again, the door slams open, bright sunlight streaming in and then closes as Jay Ferucci slides in with his slinky boys that always trail him.

They're like fleas—he's the mutt; Maya thinks with a small smirk as she finally stands back up, retreating from her sitting stance.

"Hi, girls." His handsome and smooth voice wafts out as all of the girls give their required reply.

"Hi-i-i, Jay." They all ring out in unison, dragging out the "I", some more enthusiastic than others. Kira also turns to grin at Jay and hops off the stage.

"So what do we have going on here?" he asks her as she smiles her big smile and gestures towards the gathering of dancers on stage.

"Well we just got done practicing intro. Then, I'm doing cuts for solos." She states, placing her hands on her hips. Maya notices her yellowed French manicure. She looks to her own blue chipped nails and erases all thoughts of judging Kira away. Jay slips his cheap aviators off and gives an impressed but expectant look.

"I would like to see this for myself." He says, and all the girls know his decision is final. They all line up in their spots for the intro number, eyes focused and concentrated on not screwing up. Jay wasn't as gracious as Kira. He would cut you for the whole week if you missed even one move, one step, or sexy glance. Kira nods and looks up to the DJ.

"Track!" and as the music, Toxic , begins and the girls go through their choreography. Kira nods as they perform each move as they should, not missing a beat.

Maya walks behind Jayda, her spot after the hook, and mimics her moves to a T, each arm sling and leg drape intricate and seductive as she locks eyes with Jay to avoid being cut.

"Woah, woah,woah—cut the music." Jay's voice is deadly serious and the track is girls, slightly winded, stop and wait for his harsh jurisdiction. His dark, captivating eyes scan the girls for a moment before shaking his head. "You, you—red hair-" he begins in a somewhat irritated tone as the girl's eyes widen and all the rest of the dancers release pent up breaths, glad its not them being called out. "Kendra what was that?" The red headed girl takes a discreet exhale and then steps forward.

"My name is Kaylee-" he rolls his eyes.

"Don't care, cut." She throws her hands away from her small hips in protest.

"Jay! Jay please!" she pleads, hopping off stage as Maya pities her. Begging makes it worse. "I need this intro, I need this money!" she whispers breathlessly as one of Jay's goons-Maya thinks his name is Taylor or something like that—eyes her up and down.

"I know one way you can make some money." He flirts at her as she gives him a disgusted look, but his eyes stay glued to her petite but nicely shaped butt but slowly trail to her head of red velvet toned hair.

"Keep whining, I like it." Jay teases as his friends laugh. His mood then turns serious, it was so quiet you could hear Maya's heart beating—she was still a bit winded but also watching the intense scene before her. "Kaylee, you stick out like a red, sore, thumb." He begins. "You're slow as hell, forgot your move, and make the ugliest ass expressions I have ever scene. You've pissed me off just by showing up and even having the audacity—the audacity to even talk back, so you know what… cut for the whole week."

"No!" she cries out in complete agony as if someone had shot her.

"Let's make it two." He says with a sense of malice in his voice, and then turns away from her, looking over her head completely as she was Maya's height, or even shorter.

With one look from Ferucci's goons the girl realizes if she doesn't leave in the next two minutes she'll be in a huge compromise. Throwing a look to Kira, who says nothing but gives a small look that somewhat apologizes for her bosses—their boss' behavior. She grabs her bag off the floor near the other bags, and storms out, past the boys and out of the tall door, leaving a slam behind her after flushing out. Kelie looks to the ground; Maya is too busy preparing for the next run, because she already knew it would happen as soon as Kaylee was dismissed.

"That could've been me…" she hears Kelie say this, and can tell that she won't forget it. This time, after Kira yells for the song to start Kelie is dancing harder than ever.

xxxxxxx

"What's going on, what's going on?" Zay asks cheerily as Lucas enters the office area of the station, coffee in hand and usual stoic yet easy expression sculpted across his face.

"Babineux." He adresses him, placing his coffee on the former's desk before doing a small handshake. "How are things this morning?" Zay swivels in his chair a bit, which indicates a slow and boring day, so far.

"Nothin' really. Some guys got pulled in by Dobbs for some petty crimes." The look of question is seen across Lucas' face and Zay grins. "Snuck into ladies changing rooms in the mall yesterday." He starts. "Took multiple pictures." Lucas raises an eyebrow and his mossy eyes light up with a hint of amusement and jester.

"Do you still have them? Asking for uh, evidence purposes." He jokes as they both laugh. Another black man, also tall and a bit more built comes down the aisle past Zay's desks and shakes his head in a friendly manner.

"Already being a creep, Friar?" Billy Ross gives him a head nod and Lucas smirks childishly.

"You can count on me, Billy."

"That's Detective Ross to you." He waves a hand at him and then picks his coffee back up and makes his way to his own desk that is a bit down the aisle. He slips off his light jacket and lays it across the back of his leather-wheeled chair. He starts up the desktop and gets settled in quietly as office ambience fills his ears in a familiar way.

"…Yes ma'am I understand that you're upset, please calm down…"

"…can you describe what the perp was wearing, sir….?"

"We should totally get quesadillas later. This place…"

xxxxxxxx

Lucas sits in his usual seat as they sit in front of the topic and watch board. Nothing is on it this week, except for a few that have committed petty crimes tacked off to the side of the white board portion. The Major of the ATF and DEA sector— Charlie Gardner leans at the end of the table with his usual smile across his face.

"Good morning, team." He greets them all and Billy looks at his gold Rolex without discretion.

"12:23. Noon. Afternoon." Lucas chuckles discreetly at this and Charlie resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"Thank you, Ross." He then turns to face the board and motions to his assistant to pull up the digital smart screen. "Anyway, we think something is floating around in the under ground. We need the some of the ATF and DEA department looking at this case." He pulls up two pictures that Lucas scours at. They looked like complete and undeniable pushers. Billy does a double take.

"Wait, wait… isn't that Coleman? Arrested last month on a DUI-" he starts as another woman of force, specifically from the DEA unit nods.

"Bailed out by the bottom guy." She finishes. Lucas remembers Zay talking about this—he was one of the DEA agents assigned to the case last month.

"So, wait—he's got himself hooked up again? Isn't he on surveillance?" Charlie nods, taking a sip of his black coffee and gesturing towards Lucas.

"Damn right, Detective Friar. The guy won't stop. We think this time he's in some sort of partnership with one of the biggest goons of NYC after dark—Ferucci." A blonde with her frizzy curls in a tight ponytail nods back to her team. Her CSI team was assigned to the case just as Lucas and Billy were assigned. "So, Friar, you and Ross will be working with Dale's CSI team on this case, I expect only the best on this." Mariah Dale smiles across the table at Lucas, who gives her a nod.

"I'll call you when I need you." He teases as she rolls her dark eyes.

"Try to keep up, Friar." Mariah retorts, and after this small banter the serious mood returns and everyone is ready to retreat to their desks and begin the case paperwork and go through the checklist. Lucas and Billy were stoic as they gather their papers to the meeting room, they joke around all of the time, but their jobs were something they took very seriously.

"I'll try to pull up Ferucci's files in the database with some help from Liza; Ross go ahead and get Babineux to build up a warrant with Friar that will cover his home and work." Charlie calls behind his broad shoulder, and with that they disperse to do their work. As soon as Lucas gets back to his desk, austere face on and ready to work, but his phone buzzes across his desk. A picture of young Riley and her toothy smile lights up across the screen.

"Hello? What's wrong?" he asks immediately—it had to be an emergency if she calls while he's working.

"Oh nothing, do you think pink or lilac is better?" his eyes squint in confusion. This better not be baby stuff. I swear to god.

"P-pink or lila-" he starts, but then scoffs. "Riley I'm at work. I'm very busy and don't have the time-" On the other end, Riley's eyebrows furrow and her mood takes a swivel.

"Don't have time for me? Your fiance? And our potential future baby?" she squeaks out; he groans, but inwardly as to not draw attention to himself.

"Riley, you aren't pregnant." He tells her exasperatedly, letting a file slap onto his desk as he sorts them out. He can imagine her pacing around the house right now, just thinking up baby names and color schemes and it slightly annoys him.

"You never know, Lucas!" she exclaims. "Contraception is never 100 percent, baby." He rubs his face and then lowers his voice even more.

"Riley, baby, did you take your meds today?"

"Lucas Friar it has nothing to do with that! You act like it controls my whole mood!" she shouts at him over the phone and he stretches his eyelids. God I love her. I love her to pieces but she can drive me crazy.

"Baby. Take them. Please." And then she starts sniffling.

"I-I want a L-Lucas junior!" she whines and he smiles before making a note to call the pharmacist to refill her prescription.

"I know. I will call today." He tells her as she sniffles less. He can visualize her smiles.

"I like Dr. Joy." And he confirms this once again. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell." She apologizes.

"It's fine. I love you, see you when I get off." And with that he ends the call and goes back to work.

Xx

Hey guys! I hope you like the first chapter of Peaches. If you haven't figured it out, Maya plays a stripper who is trying to earn her way out of the cruddy life and Lucas is engaged to Riley, living as a criminal justice professional while she is a Realtor who is aching for additions to their family.

This is a Lucaya Story, Lucaya endgame, so keep that in mind.

Most of the characters will be making an appearance in this AU. In the circumstances, which will be more in depth later—Riley and Maya DO know eachother, but they aren't super close. Yet. ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))) x 9

R&R

EDITS:

I edited this chapter to fix job mix ups. Lucas and Billy are Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (ATF) officers, Zay is a Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) agent. It bugged me that I got those jobs mixed up so I tried to apply them better.

ATF: They work with the illegal possession and distribution of alcohol, tobacco, and firearms. They do raids, collect/search for evidence, do interviews, arrest suspects, set up surveillance, and get search warrants. They also prepare documents for higher-ups to check out during the case.

DEA: Work more behind the scenes. They conduct investigations, set up surveillance to monitor drug dealers, and organize secret interference to stop drugs from getting around.