[Written between November 8th through the 12th of 2002]
[Last edited August 9th of 2004]
Disclaimer: Matoh Sanami owns everything pertaining to FAKE, as well as a few other people and companies, suing (tough productive) will only get you a large collection of anime/manga.
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"Three Little Words"
Chapter Five: Descent
Tap.
The soft noise produced by clipped fingernails and the tip of long digits landing on the hard surface of the desk across from him, the reverberation of the action continued, developing a steady rhythm. Summoning up great effort, Ryo managed to tune the sound out, along with Dee's soft uttering of words as he mumbled to himself (he never was one to read silently), to concentrate on the stack of papers situated in front of him.
Samantha Adams, the woman who'd been arrested on Friday evening, had provided a great deal of information after getting over the initial shock of being busted. The drug dealer, Ronald Harrison, was just one in a broad ring surrounding New York City, an APB had been put out on the man but so far, there'd been no hide or hair seen of the drug dealer; unearthing such a drug ring would no doubt keep most of the department busy, investigating leads and even going uncover if the situation called for it, Ryo himself wasn't fond of the possibility, as one false step usually spelled disaster or worse if discovered.
The Japanese-American was drawn out of his reverie by the scent of cigarette smoke and a hint of cinnamon, slightly dazed, he watched as Dee took his seat once again, having retrieved his desired sheet of paper from Ryo's desktop. Shaking his head, the sharpshooter dropped his eyes to regard the report on the tabletop, chiding himself for getting distracted, this had been exactly what he'd been afraid of when agreeing to get involved with Dee; his focus was slipping, and Ryo glared at the papers accusingly. Why can't you be as interesting as Dee?
"While I'm flattered by the statement, I don't think the report's capable of responding, Ryo; inanimate object and all."
Ryo straightened in the chair, glancing at Dee's amused expression in surprise; he hadn't said that out loud, had he? Flustered, he shifted his thought processes to the business at hand, as he didn't trust himself not to say any more embarrassing statements. "Has the commissioner given any instructions along with this report?"
Dee scoffed, a bit miffed at the detective's quick dismissal of his words, the way Ryo's shoulders had tightened up, and raw expression on his face hardened into seriousness signified his metamorphosis into all business and no play, certainly not flirting. "Not yet but I'm pretty sure those aren't far behind. Why are you asking, afraid he'll stick you with the worst assignment?"
"It's not that," Ryo said swiftly, letting the papers in his hand crash to the desktop below in a littered mess; Dee raised an eyebrow in amazement; silently wondering what had worked its way underneath Ryo's skin so deeply, for as long as the raven-haired man had known Ryo, the man abhorred messiness, and if he had a coin phrase, it would have been 'cleanliness is next to godliness.' The mess on the desk contradicted this knowledge and a string of apprehension began to weave itself around Dee's mind as Ryo spoke again.
"It's just- I'm worried that this case is going to take a long time to solve, a long and frustrating road for us to thread, not to mention the danger entangled in it." His tone was quiet, and his partner had to lean forward across the desk to catch wind of the words. �I'm wondering if it was a mistake to us to get involved, what with our jobs an-"
A tan hand roughly grabbed his own, intertwined the ten fingers closely, almost joint to joint, a knowingly intimate gesture that to prying eyes wouldn't prompt more than a sidelong glance or raised eyebrow. Dee's voice was harsh in tone as he spat out words, lips pressed thin and white. "If you start on that trail of thought, you'll never get your bearings straight again; as long as you're willing to tolerate me, I'm not leaving you ever."
Ryo blinked rather idiotically, wide dark eyes regarding the raven-haired detective in stunned silence, whenever he thought he had grasped a basic understanding of Dee, the man proved him wrong time and time again. As footfalls fell dangerously close to their joined desks, Dee's hand slipped away after a tight reassuring squeeze.
The Japanese-American was silent for a moment before uttering a quiet thank you. As Dee set about looking assessing the various tasks they had to accomplish that day, Ryo stood, stretching sore muscles, it was only eleven 'o clock in the morning, which meant they would spend most of the afternoon interviewing the tenants of a nearby apartment building to the scene of the incident, not a very fun prospect as most of the people would probably make mention of the noise and little else.
Swallowing a sigh, Ryo walked to Dee's desk, placing hands on the back of the man's chair to lean over his right shoulder, just a hair's breath away from resting his chin on the American's shoulder.
The detective turned his head to gaze at the sharpshooter curiously, only stopping when warm breath fanned against the back of his neck, and Dee shivered, eyes fluttering open and shut minutely. Who knew Ryo could be so damn alluring at times? "Hey, Dee, how's your injury doing, are you in pain?"
A tad breathless, he waited until he could formulate a response that didn't betray his body's reaction to Ryo's unexpected, yet damn effective overture. "Not anymore." He felt rather than saw his partner's smile behind him.
"Oh, really? That's good." Dee clenched a fist as Ryo pulled away but knew the man wouldn't appreciate being molested in a room teeming with people, cursing underneath his breath, he watched as Ryo took his seat once more, smiling broadly, as if he was pleased with himself. "You evil bastard!"
The Japanese-American only smirked wider, picking up the scattered papers on his desk and straightening them in a tidy, stacked pile. "Just giving a taste of what you put me through," He explained briefly. "But that's not important right now, do you want to have lunch before or after we start questioning the tenants of the apartment building?"
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Four long frustrating hours later, the pair of detectives neared the last apartment of the building, Dee pulling out his notebook in advance, whilst running a hand through his hair as he looked over the various notes; the whole lot of the tenants hadn't seen the drug dealer in question at all, or any man matching his description, though one middle-aged woman had mentioned there'd been someone yelling loudly late Friday evening near the building, but she figured it had been a lover's quarrel and had thought it best not to get involved.
"Damn, what horrible luck we've been having. Did someone put this whole building under mass hypnosis or what? Seems like everyone was either out for the evening, or sound asleep."
"Well, what did you expect?" Ryo asked as he pounded a fist on the surface of the wooden door, after a few moments of waiting, the two detectives exchanged a knowing look. Lowering his voice, Ryo placed a hand on Dee's arm. "This is suspicious, do you think they're not at home or just leery of th-"
Dee held a finger to lips, listening closely as the air was suddenly charged with apprehension, then the very familiar sound of the release of a safely echoed, and both men ducked instinctively as a bullet blasted forth from the door and hit the plaster wall behind them, white powder filling the air momentarily, the shot had been mere inches from the space one of them had previously occupied.
"This guy's good," Ryo whispered softly as he knelt on the floor, suppressing his body's urge to kick open the door, which would not exactly been a good thing to do especially if he had correctly guessed the man's weapon of choice. Silently, Dee ran a hand over the bullet holes, and mouthed the words. 'Shotgun?'
The Japanese-American nodded grimly before crawling over to the far left side of the door; the pair of detectives waited a full minute before deciding to take some action, as either the shotgun blast was meant to distract them or the guy was hiding himself away in the apartment and had fired randomly. It was eerily silent as Ryo stood, drawing his own weapon, and placing a hand on the knob; Dee was only a foot away, covering his back as Ryo opened the door.
Dee observed his partner as he stood in the open doorway, then breathed a sigh of relief when Ryo turned around and gave an all-clear sign. "There was someone here but he's gone now, it seems he took advantage of our lingering and slipped away."
Ryo searched the apartment thoroughly, immediately taking notice of a passport and driver's license, as he weaved his way through the various rooms, he paused as he spotted a drop of crimson on the hardwood floor near the bedroom; cautiously, he opened the door and looked into the darkness. Not a minute later, the sharpshooter came back out into the living room, face deathly pale and troubled.
"Ryo? Are you all right?"
Mutely, said man shook his head, and his voice came out shakily. "Not only is our man a dabbler in narcotics, he's also fully embraced the role of a killer, I'm beginning to understand his activities these past few days. I'm only hazarding a guess here but it�s most likely that after having a run-in with the police on Friday evening, he entered the apartment building, and found an unlocked apartment. I believe the woman lying dead in the bedroom came home and were immediately assaulted, though I don't think he meant to kill her but he did anyway. He's been holed up here the whole time, right after our fucking noses."
Ryo tossed the identification items to Dee before he could comment on his address.
"Ronald Forest Harrison. DOB: December 26th, 1969. Height: 601. Eyes: Blue. Type: AB. Drug dealer and novice killer. Shit, this is shaping up to be one hell of a case."
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Monday evening, some hours later�
Pale hands opened the apartment door, resting briefly on the knob before releasing it, Ryo walked through the doorway resignedly, emotionally and physically exhausted. He pulled off his jacket, and paused a moment before tossing it onto the couch in the living room, he was too tired to be concerned with tidiness, and there was always the morning to take proper care of it.
Bikky sat in front of the television, eyes glued to the screen as he stabbed with swift fingers at the Playstation controller in his hands. Smiling lightly, Ryo collapsed on the couch in front of the TV, watching as a CGI character was thrown from a crumbling building by a tall dark man who gazed down at the falling figure sadly. "What are you playing?"
The young boy started, casting a backward glance over his shoulder, blue eyes narrowed in concern at his unofficial guardian's haggard appearance. "You're home already? Usually you don't get home till later."
Ryo shrugged, standing up lazily. "It was a hectic day at work, I managed to get off early because of it," He said in simple terms, not wanting to get into the grisly details of the murder victim he'd discovered this afternoon. Murder, it reminded him of the night his own parents had been slaughtered.
"Where's the dumb-ass?"
A long sigh went through the air at Bikky's accusing tone. "Since I'm not exactly in the mood to cook, Dee was nice enough to offer to go get us some take-out, he should be here shortly, so try to act civil, please."
Ryo didn't think he could put up with the two's antics today, his mood was sour as it was. For some reason, every since he'd lay eyes on that dead body, this mind had become trapped in the past, and he'd been unable to force himself back in the present; it was odd because he'd seen murder victims before but this one had been particularly savage, like a wild animal had attacked her instead of a human being.
"By the way, have you finished your homework?" By the young teenager's hunched shoulders and his sudden silence, the answer was obvious. "Turn off the video game, and go finish your schoolwork, Bikky, then you can go do whatever you like. I'll even provide you with some money if you want to go out."
The boy quickly complied, eyes practically sparkling at the mention of being given money freely. Once Bikky was absent, Ryo wandered into the kitchen and took a seat at the kitchen table, not a minute later, the doorbell rang, and growling underneath his breath, the Japanese-American stalked to the door, tough the glare on his face softened when he saw Dee rocking back and forth on his heels in the hallway, carrying a large white bag.
"Is Chinese satisfactory?" Dee asked (though it was a little late to be asking really), flashing a grin at Ryo who only stared back tiredly in response. "That's fine, Chinese cuisine is Bikky's favorite so he'll be immensely satisfied. Just deposit the food on the kitchen table, and I'll get out some plates."
"Ryo, are you feeling all right? You've been a bit low-spirited since this afternoon. Is it because of the b-" An elbow in the ribs silenced Dee, as Bikky walked in the kitchen, automatically heading towards the food on the table. He pulled out the various containers, sniffing in obvious distaste at the appearance or smell of one of the orders, until his desired food was in hand; he sauntered out of the dining area and retreated to his room without glancing once or even saying a word to Dee.
"Goddamn it, Ryo, did you happen to forget that I was shot in the chest this past weekend?" A pair of hands roughly pulled Dee towards him, and Ryo savagely pressed his mouth against the American's in desperation, some part of him yearning to be held in Dee's arms, to be comforted without having to ask for it.
The pain in his chest swiftly forgotten, Dee pulled the enthusiastic Ryo into his arms, hands busy kneading the tense muscles in the man's back, when the raven-haired man ran a thumb down the line of the sharpshooter's spine, the body in his arms completely melted against him, pale forehead falling against the curve of Dee's neck not a moment later.
Making a mental note to try that ministration when they were in a better-situated position, Dee moved Ryo towards the kitchen table where he took a seat, and gathered the older man in his arms as best he could. "All right, now I know something's wrong, it's usually me who's assaulting you like that, not that I don't mind but it's a bit disturbing."
Ryo shifted in his arms, laying his head against Dee's shoulder. "Shut up," He bit out harshly but there was no real menace in his tone. "Sometimes silence is better suited for this type of situation."
Dee complied, kissing the older man's forehead lightly, then rested his chin against honey-colored locks, when Bikky walked into the kitchen, he glanced at the pair, doing a double take when he realized the position they were in. Scowling at the boy, he made a shooing motion with his free hand and after a moment's hesitation the teenager followed the suggestion, an astonished expression of his face.
Frowning at the cooling Chinese food, Dee glanced at the man in his arms, and shrugged mentally, let the food rot for all he cared, having a handful of Ryo was of much more importance to him.
When the Japanese-American's breathing rose slow and steady, Dee stood up carefully, wincing at the pain Ryo was unwittingly causing as he pressed against his still healing wound; part of Dee was disappointed that the older man had only wanted to snuggle while the other was happily content that Ryo trusted him so much as to fall unconscious in his arms.
Laying the sharpshooter on the couch, Dee quickly snagged an afghan and laid it over Ryo, going so far as to tuck it under his chin, said man did nothing but snuggle deeper into the blanket. Grinning to himself, the detective retreated to the kitchen where he shoved the Chinese food in the refrigerator, and grimly started towards Bikky's room.
The door was, of course, locked. Knocking softly, Dee was taken aback when Bikky opened the door so quickly, and willingly, a slither of surprise was still etched in the boy's face, and the man felt a feeling of smugness overcome him. Seeing that Bikky hadn't closed the door yet, he entered the room upon seeing no sign of a glare on the teenager's features.
"What do you want, dumb-ass?" Dee cocked a brow at the statement but did nothing as his eyes scanned the room the teenager called his own, various clothes were littered about on the floor, along with some dinner plates, and stray remnants of TV dinners, on the boy's bed were an opened schoolbook, and a notebook. "Since Ryo's decided to take a trip to la-la land, I decided now would be the perfect time for us to have a little talk."
Bikky stared at him suspiciously. "Talk, about what, the fact that you've finally managed to seduce Ryo into having a relationship with you or that we completely hate each other's guts?"
Dee crossed his arms, willing himself not to get upset; one, he hadn't come to speak with Bikky to yell, second, he didn't want to wake Ryo up when he clearly needed the rest.
"Bikky�" He started then closed his mouth deciding against that route. "I'll admit I did push Ryo a little but it's not all my fault, he didn't completely reject my advances, did he? This relationship I supposedly drove him to, wasn't my idea at all, its Ryo who decided to have a go at it, of his own free will, I might add."
Before Bikky could have a word, he continued. "And while I admit I'm not fond of you, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones and start over again. I'll be relatively nice to you, and you could do the same, since we're going to be seeing a lot of each other, it's only fair we come to some agreement, right? I'd hate to drive Ryo into the nuthouse."
The young teenager absorbed Dee's words, and ran them through his mind, testing his sincerity and honesty, while he doubted the first part, he knew the rest to be sincere. Biting his bottom lip, he held out a hand hesitantly, Dee smiled at the gesture and clasped it tightly.
Nodding to himself, the American stood, ruffling a hand through Bikky's hair. "Thanks, kiddo, I appreciate this. How about I bring over Chinese tomorrow night too?"
The teenager allowed a smirk to gather on his face as he looked up at Dee. "As long as you bring an order of General Tso's chicken and not that Pepper Steak crap."
"Yes, sir!" Dee exclaimed, saluting as he exited the room. Once the door was closed softly, he breathed a sigh of relief, glad that had gone over extremely well, he'd rather expected Bikky to cry, scream and basically make a general nuisance of himself before agreeing to make an effort to get along with Dee; the apocalypse was most definitely coming soon.
Chuckling to himself, he entered the living room and quietly climbed onto the couch with a certain detective, the older man groaned in his sleep but turned around and burrowed into Dee's open arms, as the American got comfortable himself; allowing himself a small smirk, Dee rested his chin upon Ryo's head and gingerly pulled the man closer.
"Silence is most definitely better in moments like this," He whispered as his eyes closed on their own accord, and sleep dragged at the edges of his mind, he thought he could get used to this particular pillow.
To Be Continued�
Onto Chapter Six?
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