Pleasantries - Chapter 6 - In the line of Duty
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I ndex Chapter 5
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
interlude
Part 6Chapter 6
Part 2
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Genre: Drama, Modern, Sci-fi, Dark, Crime
Word Count: 1200 (and counting)
Rating: NC17 / M for story as a whole.
Advisories: Course Language, Course Language (it needs repeating), Misbehaving Minors, Really Misbehaving Adults, Death, Nudity (if I get my game running again before the chapter ends), Implied Violence, Annoying Little Shits, Male bonding (not that kind! Okay, some of that kind too), Prostitution (no, not implied this time), and Winston gets his dork on.
*notes*: There are no images in this update. More details can be found here.
Yes, I know it is short. Had to "get it out there" so it stops being so ... painful and this was this was the portion I had which I was okay with. New characters coming in, one set of them sooner than I was expecting. Lack of images though has it making more sense to bring them in now. Those you have not met before are present in the cover image (go obsessive snapping of useless pics!).
Now, before I change my mind again and decide I really can't do this ....
Pleasantries - Chapter 6 - In the line of Duty - Part 1
2:30 AM Saturday, May 17
There were, Caliban had discovered over his lifetime, three unwritten universal rules. It was the quiet ones you had to watch out for; they were hiding a wild side. The stupid ideas were always the most fun and the telephone always, without fail, rang at the worst possible moment.
Tearing his attention away from the pretty brunette in his bed he glared at the offending machine.
“Don’t answer it,” the woman beneath him murmured doing her best to wrench his attention back away from the phone.
Cal really wished he could let her, “Sorry, Vicky …”
“Nicky,” she corrected gently.
“Right, Nicky,” he sighed, “If it’s work ...”
She pouted up at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, “Make it quick.”
Cal groaned snatching the phone off the table glancing at the number as he answered, “Anto, this better be really fucking important.”
In his apartment on the other side of the hedgerow which separated Caliban’s building from his, Anto chuckled snagging his keys from the hook on the wall, “Put your pants on. We have work to do.”
“Shit,” Caliban swore staring regretfully down at Nicky, “Give me ten minutes.”
“Now,” came Anto’s firm response as he stepped out onto the terrace, “I’m driving.”
“Fuck,” Cal swore sitting up, “Fine. I’m on my way.”
“Oh, and Cal?” Anto paused at the top of the stairs glancing over toward Caliban’s apartment.
“What?”
“Close your goddamn window. The whole neighborhood can hear you.”
Anto didn’t wait for a reply before snapping his phone closed. He didn’t need to. Caliban’s suggestions about what Anto could do with his advice rang loud and clear through Cal’s wide open bedroom window.
* * *
2:55 AM Saturday, May 17
Caelan arched his back, bracing his shoulders against the back of the seat, lifting his hips enough to slide his pants back on. A quiet giggle beside him caught his attention. He turned his head, brows furled in question to the blonde girl beside him. “What’s so funny?”
She grinned, stretching her legs out along the seat, a perfectly manicured, pink nailed hand sliding over her legs to smooth her skirt down. “Daddy wants to get one of these cars because he says it has the most passenger room in a sedan.”
Dropping back into the seat, Caelan chuckled, “I can vouch for a very roomy backseat.”
She gave a sarcastic snort, “He’d love to hear how we know that, I’m sure.”
With a smirk Caelan leaned over to fasten the top button on her blouse. “I’d be happy to tell him,” he offered, pausing to drop a chaste kiss on her lips. “Only I like my balls where they are. Attached.”
Laughing she pushed him back, turning in her seat to open the door, “Come on, Casanova, time to drive me home.”
* * *
3:10 AM Saturday, May 17
Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Edward rounded the corner nearly knocking over the young man in a lab coat coming the other way.
“Sir!” the man in the lab coat pressed himself back against the wall, “I’m sorry, Sir!”
Edward spared him a curt nod hurrying on down the hallway. He didn’t like being rude, especially not to the new blood, but he was already late. I was not healthy to keep the Tasir waiting.
His shoes slipped on the polished floor as he came to a halt before the door at the end of the hallway. He hesitated for only a moment before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. No sooner had he stepped inside than he dropped to his knees, head bowed.
“Tell me, Edward,” a quiet voice spoke in the dim room, “What are you?”
There was no hesitation in Edwards reply, “Unworthy.”
Edward heard the chair turn behind the desk he knew was in the centre of the room. He felt the Tasir’s gaze on his bowed head. His pulse hammered through his veins.
“I grow tired of these failures, Edward,“ The Tasir’s voice was deceptively light.
Edward swallowed audibly, not daring to speak.
“At every turn, you fail me.” There was a heavy pause, “And now the police are nosing about what I presume to be the mess left from your failure.”
Edward nodded.
“Explain.”
It was an order Edward didn’t dare disobey.
“Tasir Leres Hraone,” he began, using the Tasir’s full title in an effort to lessen some of the silent rage he could feel directed toward him, “I am deeply sorry. We will try again. We are so very close, just a few more bugs to work out.”
“And the mess you have strewn about the city?”
“A bit of confusion on the part of some of the new recruits still under the influence. It will not happen again.”
Heavy silence hung over the room and Edward felt his palms begin to sweat. Silence from the Tasir was rarely pleasant. It usually meant someone was about to pay dearly. Edward hoped it wouldn’t be him.
“Has the latest subject been similarly misplaced?” the Tasir spoke at last.
“It has,” Edward gave a solemn nod.
“Wonderful. Ensure it does happen again.”
Edward blinked down at the floor in confusion, “Tasir?”
A quiet chuckle, humorless and cold emanated from the desk in the centre of the room. “I rather enjoy watching these detectives chase their tails.”
* * *
3:40 AM Saturday, May 17
Anto pulled his car up next to Taneli’s black sedan. Before he even had the key out of the ignition Taneli leaned in through the passenger’s window smiling sympathetically at Caliban.
“Got your game face with you?” Taneli asked.
Caliban frowned, “What?”
Stepping back, Taneli opened the door to let Caliban out, “You need to hold it together on this one. Can you do that?”
His frown intensifying, Caliban slid out of the car, “Yeah, why? What the fuck did they find?”
Motioning to Anto to follow, Taneli set off around the side of the office building into the alley. “Janitor called it in. He was tossing trash bags into the dumpster when one of them didn’t sound right.”
“Didn’t sound right?” Anto asked as they ducked under the yellow tape.
Taneli pointed down the alley to a line of dumpsters. Uniformed officers milled about shining lights between the bins. Technicians mingled among them setting up the flood lights, a flashbulb occasionally bathed the dim scene with light as the forensics team took photos.
“Turns out these are emptied on Friday afternoons,” Taneli explained. “If the janitor hadn’t got curious about why it didn’t sound like his bags were hitting the bottom of an empty bin she probably wouldn’t have been found.”
Anto stepped forward, stepping around the photographer to look into the dumpster. The camera flash went off again illuminating the contents. Anto blanched.
“Shit,” he stepped back, turning to place a hand on Caliban’s shoulder as the alien stepped up beside him, “Cal, you don’t have to look.”
The floodlights blazed to life. Caliban leaned over to see inside the dumpster. His usually green skin blanched nearly white. “Mother fuck …”
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On to Part 2