Fake Fan Fiction ❯ FAKE in Love: Act XVII, Murder and Mayhem ❯ Chapter 2

Warnings and Disclaimers: I'm not Sanami Matoh. I'm not making any money off of this. This story contains adult situations and language as well as some `chicka-chicka-bow-wow' moments between men. This is set in the “FAKE in Love” time line, so if you haven't read the other posts, you might be a wee bit confused. And please review if you have time. Rat bastards.

 

 

Bikky was silent through breakfast. He glared at his plate and viciously ignored Dee and Ryo. Dee lifted an eyebrow at the boy's irritating behavior, but didn't say anything about it. Ryo didn't seem to notice.

Dee shifted the paper a little when the phone rang, Ryo rising from the table to answer. When the brunette disappeared into the kitchen Dee leaned across to Bikky.

“Apologize to him,” Dee said flatly and sat back to enjoy the rest of his paper.

Bikky stubbornly didn't say a word. Ryo returned to the table and absently played with the remnants of his breakfast. Dee peered at him over the top of the paper and a light frown pulled at his lips. He finally tossed the news aside and grabbed his jacket.

“Ready Ryo?” Dee asked.

Ryo didn't look up.

“Ryo? Hey, wake up.”

Ryo blinked quickly and then looked up with a quick smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was just…thinking. Let's go. Bye Bikky, have a good day.”

Ryo headed for his jacket and Bikky's frown suddenly shifted.

“What's with him?” the boy asked in a low whisper.

“He got some bad news,” Dee answered. “Just behave yourself for a while, okay?”

Bikky slumped in his chair and continued to dig at his eggs.

“It's not a big deal,” he muttered stubbornly.

 

“Are you driving or am I?” Dee asked as they strolled through the lobby.

Ryo shrugged. “You should, I'd probably drive us into a light pole.”

“Yeah,” Dee paused and waited for Ryo to stop and look up at him. “You seem a little distracted.”

Ryo shook his head and laughed, his hands sliding into his pockets as he shrugged.

“Only a little?” he asked.

“I was being polite,” Dee answered with a cock-eyed grin.

Ryo sighed and glanced back at the elevator.

“I don't know what to think about this, Dee,” Ryo confessed quietly.

Dee gently squeezed Ryo's shoulder and earned himself another small smile.

“Let's go,” Dee said.

He pulled open the small apartment building's door and immediately took a step back into Ryo as a flood of faces greeted him.

“Detective MacLean! Detective MacLean!”

“Officer, have you heard about…”

“Any comment on the pending parole hearing of…”

The reporters shouted over each other as Dee and Ryo hesitated in the doorway, now resembling a pair of deer caught in oncoming traffic. At last Ryo gritted his teeth and pushed Dee forward.

“Let's go,” he said lowly. “Let's get to work.”

They pushed their way through the crowd, more questions volleyed their way as they walked. Both kept silent, not even a `no comment' thrown out in their wake. They at last made it to the car and climbed inside, the reporters still mobbing around them. Dee started the engine and then rolled down the window angrily.

“Get out of the way or I'll arrest you for interfering with police business!”

The way cleared enough for them to inch out of their parking space and join the steady stream of traffic that pulsed through the city. Dee growled low in his throat as he drove, a dark scowl on his face as he gripped the wheel. Ryo's eyes were stormy, but his face was a perfect mask of calmness. Dee glanced over at him and shook his head.

“It's creepy when you do that,” Dee said. “If you're pissed, just look pissed.”

Ryo turned a dangerous glare on him and Dee winced.

“Never mind.”

Ryo couldn't help but smile then and Dee gave him a quick wink.

 

There were more reporters waiting for them at the station, but Commissioner Berkeley Rose was there to glare them into submission. Ryo and Dee managed to make it inside with relatively little harassment, but it didn't mean that the day got any easier.

Ryo sighed and raked his hands down his face. The computer screen was beginning to go fuzzy in his head. He couldn't stare at it for much longer without going blind. He glanced over at Dee and felt a little guilty as his partner continued to irritably fill out paperwork. Neither of them were particularly fond of paperwork, but Ryo knew that Dee absolutely hated to be kept off the streets for any reason.

Dee scowled suddenly and threw his pen at the door. He shrugged as Ryo watched him and slumped forward, his head resting lightly in one palm.

“Just how long do you think they'll make us stay inside?” Dee asked.

“I don't know,” Ryo answered. “The hearing's next week…”

Dee groaned then and shook his head.

“I'll go insane.”

Ryo chuckled quietly and Dee glanced back over at him.

“I will,” Dee said with complete assuredness. “I am going to go fucking insane if they make me sit here and fill in paperwork for the next week.”

“We could just let them tag along to crime scenes,” Ryo suggested. “It might thin a few of them out.”

“I doubt that,” Dee said absently. “They'd probably try and get you to pose by any bodies or bullet holes.”

Ryo laughed.

“So lawyers and reporters, huh?”

“The lawyers' thing is genetic, the reporters' thing is learned,” Dee grumbled.

“Aw, did you have a bad experience?” Ryo teased.

Dee gave him that irritated look that usually told Ryo that he was on the verge of being kissed breathless. He smiled back challengingly.

“Don't talk to me like I'm a kid,” Dee said sternly.

“Then don't act like one,” Ryo goaded.

Dee's eyes narrowed as he started to rise out of his seat.

“Why you little--”

The game was cut off as a quick knock sounded at their door and Rose hurried inside. He tossed a file to Ryo and glanced between them both.

“You've got a case.”

Ryo flipped open the thin file and a sudden frown passed over his face.

“Sir? What is this?”

“A murder,” Rose said grimly.

“But it looks like…”

Ryo's voice trailed away as his head cocked to one side and Dee moved to peer over his shoulder. He felt Dee frown next to him and then the dark haired detective tapped the picture with one finger.

“I've seen this before,” Dee said.

“So have I,” Ryo murmured.

“Boston Strangler, 1962,” Rose said flatly.

Ryo's eyes widened and Dee's jaw dropped as he leaned closer.

“Holy shit,” Dee breathed.

“This might not be the first one,” Rose said softly.

 

“At first, there was no connection,” the Commissioner said as they followed him down the hall towards one of the precinct's meeting rooms. “Three murders, very random, very…low profile…”

Rose scowled at the words, his distaste apparent. `Low profile' meant something that didn't have media attention or the power of an outraged community behind it. It was a negligible death, one that no one would really remember.

“But then the similarities were noticed, Bundy, Panzram, and now the Boston Strangler. It looks like a copycat.”

“It sounds like a movie plot,” Dee said dully.

“Life imitating art, imitating life,” Ryo said absently as he read the file.

“Please don't say that to the media,” Rose said tiredly. “The last thing I need is to be questioned about how I feel on the subject of Hollywood violence. I don't care where this guy got his ideas or why he's doing it, I want it over. I don't need another headache.”

“God forbid something inconvenience you,” Dee muttered as he lit a cigarette.

Rose's eyes narrowed as he glanced back at the detective.

“I've been very lax on the building's smoking policy,” he ground out. “Don't tempt me to change my mind.”

Dee scowled in answer but kept his mouth shut.

Rose sighed and continued on.

“It's unfortunate,” he said. “But the two of you have more experience with serial killers than any other officers working in the city.”

“Is there an award?” Dee asked dryly. “That's not really something to be proud of.”

“I never said it was,” Rose answered. “But it unfortunately means that this whole thing gets to be dumped into our laps. The murders have strayed through three different precincts, so you'll have to coordinate accordingly. And…”

“This is where he tells us about the FBI involvement,” Ryo murmured, still not looking up from the papers he was reading.

Dee snorted soft laughter and Rose paused with one hand on the door and the other lightly rubbing at his temple.

“When did you get to be as bad as him?” he asked wearily.

“Not sure, sir,” Ryo answered, still not looking up.

Rose sighed in resignation.

“Yes, the FBI is involved. They requested police assistance this morning.”

“Fantastic,” Dee drawled. “So who is waiting behind door number one? An overly hormonal sea witch or a brooding possessive librarian?”

Rose's smile could have sliced open skin.

“Both,” he answered gleefully as he opened the door.

Diana Parker and Timothy Darrow looked up, their conversation abruptly cut off.

“Alright that's it,” Dee said flatly. “Consider this my resignation. I quit.”

“Oh thank God,” Diana said with exaggerated relief. “If he quits I don't have to.”

“Get in there,” Ryo said boredly as he headed in.

“Hello officers,” Tim said crisply. “I trust you've seen the files?”

“Just the one,” Dee said and jerked a thumb towards Ryo. “And my partner's been hoarding it.”

Ryo shot him an annoyed look but didn't make any move to give up the papers. Rose shut the door firmly behind them and leaned against the wall, a small frown passing over his face. Diana glanced at him.

“Something wrong, Berks?” she asked.

“Hmm? Er, no,” he answered. “If you need me--”

The door practically slammed open then and Jamie Karlisle skidded inside, her eyes clamping shut as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Please tell me I'm in the right room,” she panted.

Every eye in the place stared at her in shock and she forced a small smile into place.

“I was busy up in the lab,” she explained. “I was worried I was going to be late.”

“This is CSI Karlisle,” Rose said. “I believe you've all met. She was the first to notice the similarities to these cases and the earlier serial killings.”

“Morbid,” Dee breathed.

Jamie winked at him.

“Good eye,” she countered. “The Commissioner suggested that I look over the rest of the files to see if there's anything else I can tell you.”

“Oh?” Diana said as she leaned back in her chair, the very prominent bulge of her stomach well styled beneath the designer worthy outfit she wore. “And why's that?”

“Well…” Jamie said and then laughed uncomfortably.

“CSI Karlisle has some experience with serial profiling,” Rose said. “Calm down Diana, no one's stealing your authority.”

Diana's eyes slid to him and she gave him an overly knowing smile.

“That's not what I was wondering about,” she said sweetly.

Dee actually poked Ryo to make sure his partner looked up in time; Berkeley Rose was blushing.

“Er, yes,” Rose said. “Excuse me. Detectives, contact me with any information you find and do your best to see that media attention on this case is minimal.”

“Yes sir,” Ryo said.

“Yeah fine,” Dee agreed and spun around to Diana. “You look like a beached whale. When are you due?”

“What did you just say?” Diana roared. “Tim, give me your gun.”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Dee bellowed as Diana reached across the table and tangled her fingers in his shirt collar.

“Oh dear god,” Rose muttered and left the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut Diana released Dee and chuckled softly. She turned on Jamie with a predatory grin.

“So, how long have you been seeing him?”