Murder Fic Chapter 2/?
Jul. 5th, 2007 11:56 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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wl_fanfictionShine on You Crazy Diamond
By: PD
Pairing: for this chapter – none really
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: Don’t own, so don’t sue.
Summary: …Colin was immediately struck by how much a bunch of cops could intimidate you by synchronized glaring.
Chapter 2: Wounded
Colin woke in a cold sweat. His eyes flicked rapidly, taking in his surroundings, from the sunlit window obscured by the heavy drapes, to his alarm clock that read 11:30. What had woken him? Was someone in the room?
The phone rang out of nowhere, nearly giving him a heart attack. When he came down from the ceiling, he grabbed it, “Yeah?” he said, irritated. Today was the day off, dammit and he was not going to come in because Dan wanted to resume taping.
“Col?” It was Ryan.
“Ry!” he breathed, feeling instantly better. “What’s up man?”
“We’re gonna need you to come down to the studio ASAP,” the man said heavily.
“What? Why? Today’s our day off for Heavens sake!” he said.
“It’s Chip…”
“Ah…who has he done now?” Colin asked, not caring a wit either way.
“The police don’t know that yet-”
“…Wait, what?”
“He’s dead, Col. He was murdered last night,” Ryan said. Col fell back against his pillows heavily.
He swore softly. “What happened?”
Ryan sighed raggedly on the other end, another voice barking at him, “I can’t tell you over the phone, they need you here at the studio for our statements. I’ll tell you all I know when you get here.”
“Okay, I’ll be there soon as I can.”
“Be careful.”
“Will do,” Colin said, hanging up the phone. He stared at it for a second.
As he got dressed, he wondered if it was wrong to feel so little about a fellow Whose Liner’s death. Chip was a kiss up, a brown nose of the worst sort, flattering his way onto the show and kept on probably because of all of the female viewers. He was a bastard to everyone when he could get away with it, smiling his shit-eating grin whenever Drew, Dan or Mark was around. It was common knowledge about his sleeping arrangements, too.
Colin sniffed, locking his front door and stepping out into the bright light. “Hello!” a voice called.
He turned from his car and thought it was Abe. Same figure, only the shoulders were just a touch less broad and the hips filled out the work shorts to perfection. Colin waved back, “I’m Esabo, Abe’s sister,” she said, stepping over the hedges she was clipping. Colin watched her approach with appreciation. They shook hands.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Colin,” he said.
“I know, love the show, you an Ryan are freaking hysterical,” she said, her smile making him feel warm and buttery inside.
“Why, thank you. Um, I’d love to chat a little longer, but I just got a call. Raincheck?” he asked.
She waved him on. “Go ahead Mr. Bigshot, just don’t forget that you owe me an interview!” she
called, turning back to her hedges.
“Interview?” he asked.
She tossed him that dazzling smile over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m a journalist!”
Colin smiled and waved, clambering into his car. His heart sank like a stone. Why did all the cute ones have to be reporters?
----
At the studio, Colin was immediately struck by how much a bunch of cops could intimidate you by synchronized glaring. A plainclothes came forward from the wall of policemen. “Abe!” Colin said, relief and confusion mingling nicely as Abe stepped forward to take his hand. He was dressed in a nice suit, button up shirt with his hair pulled back from his face. It was much more masculine without the hair framing it.
“Hey, Colin, we meet again,” he said wryly, sending a hard glance behind him. The policemen looked away, ducking their heads like naughty children.
“I wish under better circumstances,” Colin said, allowing Abe to walk him towards the conference room.
“Too true. Do you know what’s happened?” he asked, watching Colin with mild eyes.
Colin shook his head, wiping a small bead of sweat from his brow. “Nothing more than Chip…damn,” he shook his head again, feeling a little queasy.
Abe patted him on the shoulder as they went up the stairs. In the conference room, all of the other players were sitting. Colin had time to register that it had been cleaned recently before he was swept into Ryan’s arms. He sank into them, the familiar smell relaxing him a fraction.
A throat cleared before they parted. The other men, Greg, Drew, Wayne, Brad and Jeff stepped forward, each offering their comfort. Jeff smiled up at Colin timidly. Between them, the communication was clear without a word being spoken. Colin felt his face fall.
Jeff had told Chip.
Colin hugged him tightly, Jeff sobbing in his arms; “I had to tell him, Colin, I had to. I couldn’t live with it anymore!” he sobbed. Colin nodded, murmuring soothing noises while the other men looked elsewhere. Only Ryan met his eyes. They were the only ones Jeff had told, and they’d both been against the idea of Jeff telling Chip.
The kid was probably going to do something stupid now. Jeff finally stopped crying, allowing Colin and Ryan to help him onto the couch, sitting mutely between them. Abe came forward and offered a tissue box, which Ryan took, looking between Colin and the detective.
“Col, you know Detective Glass?”
“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor,” Colin said, letting the irony of the statement pass by.
Glass looked from Ryan to Jeff, “I take it you knew Chip better than the other men?”
“No,” all three men said. Glass looked between the three on the couch, eyebrow raised.
Glass took out a notebook and a pencil from his pocket, “I think an emotional outburst of that sort constitutes knowing someone intimately,” he said. Jeff looked up at him, eyes red rimmed and filled with fear. “You were in a relationship with Mr. Esten?”
Jeff glared at him, then at the floor. “No.”
“Then if you’ll pardon my asking, why the outburst, if you were not in a relationship with Mr. Esten?” Glass asked. “These men are not half so affected,” he said, motioning to the other men. It was true, none had burst into tears, and Brad was even halfway through a glass of coke.
Jeff made a choking sound. He didn’t want it to happen this way. He hadn’t even come out to his parents, now he was about to be outed by a cop. “I…” he began but Colin stopped him,
“Why does he have to answer that question, and what does it have to do with this?”
“Because if Mr. Davis was in a relationship with the deceased, then he might be shot all the way up to the top of the suspect list,” Glass said evenly. Everyone in the room froze except for Jeff, who made a strange noise. “Mr. Davis, if you are in a delicate situation, then my lips are sealed, however I can’t help you unless you give me proof that you did not do anything to Mr. Esten,” Glass said, sitting on his haunches in front of Jeff and looking him squarely in the eye.
Jeff looked away. “I had told Chip,” he said quietly, voice strained, “I had told him that morning before they taped that I…that I love him.” He glanced up at the detective, then around the room at the faces of his friends. He didn’t want to see revulsion on their faces, too, and returned his gaze to the carpet. “Loved him.”
“What was Mr. Esten’s response?”
“He, um,” Jeff said, clearing his throat, “he called me a ‘fucking fag’ and walked away,” he said. Fresh tears coursed down his cheeks and he leaned his forehead against his knees.
Colin wrapped himself around Jeff, cradling him, and glared up at Glass. Ryan glared, too, both of them daring him to be repulsed. Glass continued to ignore them, “Where were you last night?”
“Home.”
“Can anyone confirm that?”
“My landlady.”
“I can, too.” Ryan said.
Glass nodded, rising and rubbing his eyes. “Karrin!” he barked, making the room jump. A small woman came in wearing a white smock bearing a small sheaf of papers. He accepted them before leaning down and touching Jeff’s shoulder. “Jeff,” he said softly. He said it twice more before Jeff looked up at him, “Karrin is a med tech, she’s a real nice lady who is gonna take you home and get you tucked in and safe. Is that okay?”
Jeff blinked up at him. “Don’t you need my statement?”
“You just gave it, everyone here can vouch for you and,” He glanced down at the papers, “your phone record here puts you at your house at the time of the murder. Go home Jeff, get it out of your system,” he said. Colin and Ryan rose to go with him but Glass shook his head. “You two have to stay,” he said.
Ryan made to argue but Colin’s hand on his arm made him settle back down. Karrin smiled kindly at Jeff, taking his arm gently and leading him out, chattering away nonsensically, getting an occasional nod from Jeff. Colin watched them go, only to be stirred by Ryan’s deep voice from next to him. “You don’t care that he’s gay,” Ryan said flatly.
“Why should I?” Glass asked, writing some thing’s down in his notebook
“Most cops aren’t as…accepting…”Colin said. Glass shrugged gracefully.
“Ah, well, not this precinct. I hand picked most of the cops from my stations in London and Tennessee, good men the lot of ‘em. They don’t even give a damn about me, as long as I don’t hit on them and I do my job,” he said, smile wintry.
“You?” Ryan and Colin asked, eyes wide.
“Anyway,” Glass said, voice sounding as sharp as his name, “If you’ll all excuse me, I need to get another officer in to help collect your statements-” he said.
“Hang on, what happened to Chip?” Drew rose, speaking up for the first time. The other men nodded quietly.
Glass looked at Drew, but Drew wouldn’t back down. “I’m not at liberty to discuss-”
“Give us something. He was our coworker,” Greg snapped.
“Not a friend. Not surprising you didn’t say that,” Glass said, flipping through his notebook. “Cheating on his wife for five years, not exactly a nice guy according to the staff,” he sighed heavily. “I can’t tell you much,” he said apologetically.
“Just give us something, to know what we’re dealing with.” Ryan said. The others nodded, stronger this time.
Glass rubbed his eyes again, looking slightly older. “We think it’s the same person who hit John, Josie, and Mike in London. We’re trying to get information from Scotland Yard, but it’s been hell trying to get them to talk to us, let alone share information,” he muttered.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Brad said. “‘Think it’s the same person?’” he asked flatly. The others looked at him.
“That’s right,” Glass said, staring at Brad. “Serial killers follow a set pattern, they like how they do things and do it over and over again because they enjoy it. The methods may vary but the results are always the same, with matching clues. However…” he said heavily. “This killer is using different methods, no two murders have been exactly the same, so we can’t profile them.”
The silence in the room was thick enough to choke on. “So what you’re saying is, you don’t know who, or how many people are hunting us,” Colin said quietly. Everyone turned and looked at him before turning to Glass.
“No,” he said quietly, face almost sad. “We don’t know.”
Glass collected everyone’s statements, which seemed a perfect waste of time. As soon as the door shut behind him, the men turned almost as one to Ryan and Colin on the couch. “You guys knew about Jeff and Chip?” Greg asked. They nodded. “Why didn’t he tell us?” he wondered aloud.
“I don’t know, I suppose because he didn’t feel ready to tell all of you yet.”
“Probably because you two seem the most gay out of all of us,” Brad said. That earned him a glare from almost everyone. “Well, you have to admit you two do act like an old married couple sometimes, he probably felt the most comfortable with you both,” he amended. Everyone nodded with a small smile.
“Well, I think Greg is actually the most gay,” Drew began.
“Hey, just because I have good taste in clothes doesn’t mean anything!” he said, voice indignant but a smile on his lips. Everyone chuckled, but it died quickly, leaving the room sounding hollow. A knock on the door sounded and a janitor came in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the janitor turned to leave.
“It’s okay, what did you need?” Colin called.
“Um…” the janitor, a thin looking individual with a large Roman nose, looked at them meekly, attempting to hide behind his mop handle. “I wants the rat traps,” he lisped.
Greg, Wayne and Brad launched themselves out of their chairs towards the door, almost trampling the poor janitor, who shrieked and scurried out of the way. The men ended up hiding behind the door.
“Dammit guys, you don’t have to scare him!” Ryan roared, making the janitor quail further against the wall. Colin came over to the janitor.
“Scare him? There are rats in here!” Greg squeaked.
“Yeah, do you know how nasty those things are?!” Wayne demanded, peeking around Brad.
“It’s okay,” Colin said, smiling sincerely at the man who looked ready to do battle with his mop. The eyes seemed familiar, but Colin chalked it up to being an employee of the studio. “It’s okay, they’re just afraid of stupid stuff,”
“Of rat’s sir? But rat’s aren’t scary,” the janitor said, starting to relax. Colin led him over to where he had to go, leading into the back rooms that had yet to be cleaned.
“No, but some people are terrified of them, thank heavens for you though!” he laughed, “If you weren’t so brave there’d be rats everywhere!” the janitor nodded, smiling brightly as he turned to go into the darkened rooms beyond. He didn’t notice the janitor watching with undisguised adoration as they left.
By: PD
Pairing: for this chapter – none really
Rating: PG for language
Disclaimer: Don’t own, so don’t sue.
Summary: …Colin was immediately struck by how much a bunch of cops could intimidate you by synchronized glaring.
Chapter 2: Wounded
Colin woke in a cold sweat. His eyes flicked rapidly, taking in his surroundings, from the sunlit window obscured by the heavy drapes, to his alarm clock that read 11:30. What had woken him? Was someone in the room?
The phone rang out of nowhere, nearly giving him a heart attack. When he came down from the ceiling, he grabbed it, “Yeah?” he said, irritated. Today was the day off, dammit and he was not going to come in because Dan wanted to resume taping.
“Col?” It was Ryan.
“Ry!” he breathed, feeling instantly better. “What’s up man?”
“We’re gonna need you to come down to the studio ASAP,” the man said heavily.
“What? Why? Today’s our day off for Heavens sake!” he said.
“It’s Chip…”
“Ah…who has he done now?” Colin asked, not caring a wit either way.
“The police don’t know that yet-”
“…Wait, what?”
“He’s dead, Col. He was murdered last night,” Ryan said. Col fell back against his pillows heavily.
He swore softly. “What happened?”
Ryan sighed raggedly on the other end, another voice barking at him, “I can’t tell you over the phone, they need you here at the studio for our statements. I’ll tell you all I know when you get here.”
“Okay, I’ll be there soon as I can.”
“Be careful.”
“Will do,” Colin said, hanging up the phone. He stared at it for a second.
As he got dressed, he wondered if it was wrong to feel so little about a fellow Whose Liner’s death. Chip was a kiss up, a brown nose of the worst sort, flattering his way onto the show and kept on probably because of all of the female viewers. He was a bastard to everyone when he could get away with it, smiling his shit-eating grin whenever Drew, Dan or Mark was around. It was common knowledge about his sleeping arrangements, too.
Colin sniffed, locking his front door and stepping out into the bright light. “Hello!” a voice called.
He turned from his car and thought it was Abe. Same figure, only the shoulders were just a touch less broad and the hips filled out the work shorts to perfection. Colin waved back, “I’m Esabo, Abe’s sister,” she said, stepping over the hedges she was clipping. Colin watched her approach with appreciation. They shook hands.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Colin,” he said.
“I know, love the show, you an Ryan are freaking hysterical,” she said, her smile making him feel warm and buttery inside.
“Why, thank you. Um, I’d love to chat a little longer, but I just got a call. Raincheck?” he asked.
She waved him on. “Go ahead Mr. Bigshot, just don’t forget that you owe me an interview!” she
called, turning back to her hedges.
“Interview?” he asked.
She tossed him that dazzling smile over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m a journalist!”
Colin smiled and waved, clambering into his car. His heart sank like a stone. Why did all the cute ones have to be reporters?
----
At the studio, Colin was immediately struck by how much a bunch of cops could intimidate you by synchronized glaring. A plainclothes came forward from the wall of policemen. “Abe!” Colin said, relief and confusion mingling nicely as Abe stepped forward to take his hand. He was dressed in a nice suit, button up shirt with his hair pulled back from his face. It was much more masculine without the hair framing it.
“Hey, Colin, we meet again,” he said wryly, sending a hard glance behind him. The policemen looked away, ducking their heads like naughty children.
“I wish under better circumstances,” Colin said, allowing Abe to walk him towards the conference room.
“Too true. Do you know what’s happened?” he asked, watching Colin with mild eyes.
Colin shook his head, wiping a small bead of sweat from his brow. “Nothing more than Chip…damn,” he shook his head again, feeling a little queasy.
Abe patted him on the shoulder as they went up the stairs. In the conference room, all of the other players were sitting. Colin had time to register that it had been cleaned recently before he was swept into Ryan’s arms. He sank into them, the familiar smell relaxing him a fraction.
A throat cleared before they parted. The other men, Greg, Drew, Wayne, Brad and Jeff stepped forward, each offering their comfort. Jeff smiled up at Colin timidly. Between them, the communication was clear without a word being spoken. Colin felt his face fall.
Jeff had told Chip.
Colin hugged him tightly, Jeff sobbing in his arms; “I had to tell him, Colin, I had to. I couldn’t live with it anymore!” he sobbed. Colin nodded, murmuring soothing noises while the other men looked elsewhere. Only Ryan met his eyes. They were the only ones Jeff had told, and they’d both been against the idea of Jeff telling Chip.
The kid was probably going to do something stupid now. Jeff finally stopped crying, allowing Colin and Ryan to help him onto the couch, sitting mutely between them. Abe came forward and offered a tissue box, which Ryan took, looking between Colin and the detective.
“Col, you know Detective Glass?”
“Yeah, he’s my new neighbor,” Colin said, letting the irony of the statement pass by.
Glass looked from Ryan to Jeff, “I take it you knew Chip better than the other men?”
“No,” all three men said. Glass looked between the three on the couch, eyebrow raised.
Glass took out a notebook and a pencil from his pocket, “I think an emotional outburst of that sort constitutes knowing someone intimately,” he said. Jeff looked up at him, eyes red rimmed and filled with fear. “You were in a relationship with Mr. Esten?”
Jeff glared at him, then at the floor. “No.”
“Then if you’ll pardon my asking, why the outburst, if you were not in a relationship with Mr. Esten?” Glass asked. “These men are not half so affected,” he said, motioning to the other men. It was true, none had burst into tears, and Brad was even halfway through a glass of coke.
Jeff made a choking sound. He didn’t want it to happen this way. He hadn’t even come out to his parents, now he was about to be outed by a cop. “I…” he began but Colin stopped him,
“Why does he have to answer that question, and what does it have to do with this?”
“Because if Mr. Davis was in a relationship with the deceased, then he might be shot all the way up to the top of the suspect list,” Glass said evenly. Everyone in the room froze except for Jeff, who made a strange noise. “Mr. Davis, if you are in a delicate situation, then my lips are sealed, however I can’t help you unless you give me proof that you did not do anything to Mr. Esten,” Glass said, sitting on his haunches in front of Jeff and looking him squarely in the eye.
Jeff looked away. “I had told Chip,” he said quietly, voice strained, “I had told him that morning before they taped that I…that I love him.” He glanced up at the detective, then around the room at the faces of his friends. He didn’t want to see revulsion on their faces, too, and returned his gaze to the carpet. “Loved him.”
“What was Mr. Esten’s response?”
“He, um,” Jeff said, clearing his throat, “he called me a ‘fucking fag’ and walked away,” he said. Fresh tears coursed down his cheeks and he leaned his forehead against his knees.
Colin wrapped himself around Jeff, cradling him, and glared up at Glass. Ryan glared, too, both of them daring him to be repulsed. Glass continued to ignore them, “Where were you last night?”
“Home.”
“Can anyone confirm that?”
“My landlady.”
“I can, too.” Ryan said.
Glass nodded, rising and rubbing his eyes. “Karrin!” he barked, making the room jump. A small woman came in wearing a white smock bearing a small sheaf of papers. He accepted them before leaning down and touching Jeff’s shoulder. “Jeff,” he said softly. He said it twice more before Jeff looked up at him, “Karrin is a med tech, she’s a real nice lady who is gonna take you home and get you tucked in and safe. Is that okay?”
Jeff blinked up at him. “Don’t you need my statement?”
“You just gave it, everyone here can vouch for you and,” He glanced down at the papers, “your phone record here puts you at your house at the time of the murder. Go home Jeff, get it out of your system,” he said. Colin and Ryan rose to go with him but Glass shook his head. “You two have to stay,” he said.
Ryan made to argue but Colin’s hand on his arm made him settle back down. Karrin smiled kindly at Jeff, taking his arm gently and leading him out, chattering away nonsensically, getting an occasional nod from Jeff. Colin watched them go, only to be stirred by Ryan’s deep voice from next to him. “You don’t care that he’s gay,” Ryan said flatly.
“Why should I?” Glass asked, writing some thing’s down in his notebook
“Most cops aren’t as…accepting…”Colin said. Glass shrugged gracefully.
“Ah, well, not this precinct. I hand picked most of the cops from my stations in London and Tennessee, good men the lot of ‘em. They don’t even give a damn about me, as long as I don’t hit on them and I do my job,” he said, smile wintry.
“You?” Ryan and Colin asked, eyes wide.
“Anyway,” Glass said, voice sounding as sharp as his name, “If you’ll all excuse me, I need to get another officer in to help collect your statements-” he said.
“Hang on, what happened to Chip?” Drew rose, speaking up for the first time. The other men nodded quietly.
Glass looked at Drew, but Drew wouldn’t back down. “I’m not at liberty to discuss-”
“Give us something. He was our coworker,” Greg snapped.
“Not a friend. Not surprising you didn’t say that,” Glass said, flipping through his notebook. “Cheating on his wife for five years, not exactly a nice guy according to the staff,” he sighed heavily. “I can’t tell you much,” he said apologetically.
“Just give us something, to know what we’re dealing with.” Ryan said. The others nodded, stronger this time.
Glass rubbed his eyes again, looking slightly older. “We think it’s the same person who hit John, Josie, and Mike in London. We’re trying to get information from Scotland Yard, but it’s been hell trying to get them to talk to us, let alone share information,” he muttered.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Brad said. “‘Think it’s the same person?’” he asked flatly. The others looked at him.
“That’s right,” Glass said, staring at Brad. “Serial killers follow a set pattern, they like how they do things and do it over and over again because they enjoy it. The methods may vary but the results are always the same, with matching clues. However…” he said heavily. “This killer is using different methods, no two murders have been exactly the same, so we can’t profile them.”
The silence in the room was thick enough to choke on. “So what you’re saying is, you don’t know who, or how many people are hunting us,” Colin said quietly. Everyone turned and looked at him before turning to Glass.
“No,” he said quietly, face almost sad. “We don’t know.”
Glass collected everyone’s statements, which seemed a perfect waste of time. As soon as the door shut behind him, the men turned almost as one to Ryan and Colin on the couch. “You guys knew about Jeff and Chip?” Greg asked. They nodded. “Why didn’t he tell us?” he wondered aloud.
“I don’t know, I suppose because he didn’t feel ready to tell all of you yet.”
“Probably because you two seem the most gay out of all of us,” Brad said. That earned him a glare from almost everyone. “Well, you have to admit you two do act like an old married couple sometimes, he probably felt the most comfortable with you both,” he amended. Everyone nodded with a small smile.
“Well, I think Greg is actually the most gay,” Drew began.
“Hey, just because I have good taste in clothes doesn’t mean anything!” he said, voice indignant but a smile on his lips. Everyone chuckled, but it died quickly, leaving the room sounding hollow. A knock on the door sounded and a janitor came in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the janitor turned to leave.
“It’s okay, what did you need?” Colin called.
“Um…” the janitor, a thin looking individual with a large Roman nose, looked at them meekly, attempting to hide behind his mop handle. “I wants the rat traps,” he lisped.
Greg, Wayne and Brad launched themselves out of their chairs towards the door, almost trampling the poor janitor, who shrieked and scurried out of the way. The men ended up hiding behind the door.
“Dammit guys, you don’t have to scare him!” Ryan roared, making the janitor quail further against the wall. Colin came over to the janitor.
“Scare him? There are rats in here!” Greg squeaked.
“Yeah, do you know how nasty those things are?!” Wayne demanded, peeking around Brad.
“It’s okay,” Colin said, smiling sincerely at the man who looked ready to do battle with his mop. The eyes seemed familiar, but Colin chalked it up to being an employee of the studio. “It’s okay, they’re just afraid of stupid stuff,”
“Of rat’s sir? But rat’s aren’t scary,” the janitor said, starting to relax. Colin led him over to where he had to go, leading into the back rooms that had yet to be cleaned.
“No, but some people are terrified of them, thank heavens for you though!” he laughed, “If you weren’t so brave there’d be rats everywhere!” the janitor nodded, smiling brightly as he turned to go into the darkened rooms beyond. He didn’t notice the janitor watching with undisguised adoration as they left.
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