Hey everyone! It's me again! Mwah ha ha ha(evil laugh). Sorry. I haven't been getting much sleep lately. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one shot. The plot bunny attacked me in the middle of the night and I just had to write it down. Please read it and review to let me know what you think. Reviews seriously make my day and I always look forward to reading them. Happy Thursday!
This is slash, male/male, don't like it? Don't read it.
This is not been beta'd so all mistakes are mine.
I just do this for fun, so any flames will simply be used to fuel the boys' passions!
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, so don't sue. To be honest S. M. would probably faint if she read what I was doing with her characters…
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Jasper POV
It was just another Monday really. Boring, tedious, roll out of bed because you have to go to work Monday. Except there was one difference. One tiny thing that made this Monday stand out from the rest. I didn't wake up to the screeching of my alarm, nor the light shining through my bedroom windows gently pulling me from my dreams. No, this time I woke up to the sounds of shattering glass and the screeching shrill of my house alarm.
You know in the movies how people always manage to jump right out of bed knowing exactly what to do, and the best way to do it? Well that wasn't me. The sounds made me jerk up and roll off the bed, to land in an undignified pile on the floor. Then I tried to stand up only to realize that my feet were tangled in the covers and immediately fell again, smacking my head onto the nightstand. I hastily blinked the stars from my vision xzso I could see to free my legs from the blankets while simultaneously reaching into the forehead smashing nightstand to retrieve my handgun, and trying my damndest not to scream out a string of cusswords. Popping out the magazine to make sure it was loaded, I shoved the mag back in and chambered a round. I scrambled to my feet quietly making my way out of my bedroom and down the hall. The living room was dark, but the full moon gave off enough light to see the pile of glass on the floor with a rock lying in the center of it. A rock. Really? It seems so old fashioned. However a shudder races down my spine as I recall what has been happening recently.
I spent a few minutes making sure the offender was not in the house before I went back to my living room to investigate. The rock was still there on the floor. I half expected it not to be, though I don't know why. Its very presence offends me. Every day at my police station we toil and slave to put a few criminals behind bars, and for what? So they can slip through the system to get out and harass innocent people? I had become very jaded over the years. You can only see and do so much of this job before it begins to affect you, and I had been a homicide cop for four years now. Only one thing kept me going, only one person kept me grounded. Edward Cullen, my partner. Though he doesn't know it, I have been half in love with him from the first moment our eyes met. I was born in Texas, a good ol' southern boy to the core, and I joined the Marines fresh out of high school. After realizing that I was gay, I decided not to hide anymore and left the military to go to the police academy. I had graduated the academy and worked my way up steadily into homicide where I had been a detective there for just over two years when he walked through those doors. He had just passed his detective exam and was offered a position in our department based on his high marks.
When he walked towards me I swear I felt the Earth shift under my feet. His reddish brown hair was spiky and looked as if he had just been fucked in the back room. His green eyes scanned the room, taking everything in. His five o clock shadow was just visible along his strong jaw line and I found myself wanting to run my finger along it so I could feel what his skin would be like. He was shorter than me by a few inches, and had the perfect body. His green T-shirt barely met his washed out jeans held up by a black belt with a silver Fox buckle. When he raised his arm to wave at an officer across the room his shirt slid up to reveal a few inches of perfectly tanned and sculpted abs. I found my eyes following down his reddish brown happy trail and wondering about its final destination. I felt myself harden and had to take a few seconds to control my raging erection, willing it to recede. Just from that small strip of flesh I was rock hard. It was both torture and pleasure I took at hearing that he was to be assigned as my new partner. I thought that maybe he would be an ass and I would quickly get over this infatuation or whatever it was, but that was not the case. His personality was just as amazing as his looks. He was funny and kind. I found myself talking to him freely, as I'd never been able to do with people before. We shared childhood stories and funny experiences on our many cases over the last few years. I found myself slowly falling in love with him. There was one thing we never discussed. Our sexuality. I had never told Edward I was gay, and I had no idea if he was. A few of the guys at the station know so he must have heard it at some point, but he never asked me about it. As for his...well I was just too much of a chicken shit to ask. I was so afraid of the answer. If he wasn't gay then all my dreams and hopes would come crashing to an abrupt and depressing end, but if he was gay then things might turn awkward between us. I didn't know if it would be better to hope and never know, or to know that he was gay but not interested. He had never talked about a girlfriend or boyfriend so I couldn't make my assumptions off that.
Even after all this time my breath still catches when he walks into the room and looks at me. The grin that crosses his face seems special, and made just for me. I like to pretend that I'm the only one who gets that particular lopsided smile, but I know that isn't true. I've seen him give it to a few of the other detectives in our precinct, and even flashed it on a few suspects and victims. Nevertheless, I keep my dreams close to my chest, and imagine what life would be like if I could share it with Edward.
I push off my melancholy thoughts to focus on the situation in my living room. The rock doesn't appear to have any marking on this side so I grab a pen and use it to flip it over. There in red paint are two simple words, thought that doesn't decrease the looming threat of violence over them. You're next. A chill comes over me as my mind processes the message. I know who it's from, I know what it means. I'm next. Next to die.
Over the past several months three homicide detectives have been killed. They all have been from different precincts but every cop in the city of New York has heard about them. They follow the same pattern, and a serial killer always makes the news circuit. First is the warning. A rock through a window. It seems so juvenile, so harmless. However; it's anything but. The other three detectives had disappeared around ten in the evening the night after the rock warning, and they had all been found exactly three days later. An anonymous call is made to 911 telling them where they can find the body. The body, well that's another story. Somehow the bodies are drained of blood. No one knows how exactly, but there is barely a drop of it left. They are left in an abandoned building or warehouse as a macabre display. The victim's throat is cut with a single stroke, and the stomach is cut open both horizontally and vertically and peeled back to expose the insides. All four limbs are stretched out as far as possible in a replica of Vitruvian Man by Leonardo Da Vinci. The skin has signs of frostbite as if the killer has kept them in a freezer or cold storage of some kind while he waits to make his drop. He also carves a signature into the victim behind the ear at the base of the hairline. A figure eight. This detail, which was somehow leaked to the press, has people calling him Infinity. Not very clever in my opinion, but it's not as if they asked for my input on the matter.
I know that I need to call this in and report it, but I can't get my legs to cooperate, and my hands start to shake despite my efforts to remain calm. The rock sits there, teasing me with its macabre words that carry my death sentence. I'm not ready to die, not now and not by this asshole. I have so many things I want to do still, so many places I want to see. No, I'm not ready to die, and I'm not about to go down without a fight. Decision made, I make myself stand up and go call the station. The dispatcher Marie answers and assures me that she will send someone right away. I don't ask her to inform Edward, and I'm not sure why. He's my partner, he deserves to be the first to know, but I can't take his reaction right now. He will look at me with those wide green eyes and stutter out words that make no sense. That will only make me want to me kiss him until he's moaning my name, and I'm not sure I have the power to resist him tonight. After seeing that my end might be approaching I can't trust myself not to act on my feelings.
I'm pacing the living room when I see the lights. They shine off my walls in a mocking dance of red and blue, and I'm not sure if I'm relieved or anxious to see them. My fate seems to no longer be in my own hands, but in the hands of my enemy.
The knock on the door startles me even though I was expecting it, and it opens to reveal a man dressed in a dark blue suit.
"Jasper? Jesus Christ son, what have you gotten yourself into now?"
The man, Carlisle, is a fellow detective and friend. He was my mentor when I first joined the force and has stuck by me now matter what. He is married to a beautiful woman named Esme who often invites me over for dinner. Carlisle is like a brother to me and I respect his advice and opinions.
"Carlisle" his name comes out like a breath of relief. I'm glad it's him and not the others. Some of them are homophobic and could probably care less what happens to me.
He comes in and surveys the living room, pausing to look over the rock. Once it registers in his mind his head shoots up towards me, his eyes full of concern. He knows as well as I do what that rock means.
I see him struggle for words, but we are interrupted when I hear shouting outside.
"Jasper! Jasper! Let me through fucker, I'm with homicide." I look through the door just in time to see Edward push past the patrolman that was setting up the perimeter and head towards my door. He looks up at me and our eyes lock. I see him take a deep breath and I'm hopeful that it means he was worried, and seeing me alive is a great relief. Of course he thinks that dumbass, you're his partner. I needed to stay grounded tonight and not let my feelings for Edward get away from me.
"Jas, your alright. Jesus why the hell didn't you call me? I'm your partner for Christ's sake, and I had to catch the tail end of the call off my scanner. What the fuck is going on here?"
He barges into the living room where he seems to notice Carlisle and nods his head in greeting. Then he too sees the rock but he doesn't react the way I had expected. I had expected the same reaction that I had gotten from Carlisle, but once again Edward surprises me. He goes over the to rock and kicks it savagely across the room. I watch as it bounces off the wall leaving a dent, but am drawn back to Edward when I hear the string of curse words coming out of his mouth. Carlisle goes over to him to calm him down, but he stops abruptly and sits down on the couch putting his head in his hands, his knees bent. When he looks at me, my world stops.
His green eyes are full of tears that are on the brink of falling and the pure look of desolation on his face almost drops me to my knees.
"No, Jasper. Jesus no, not you. Please not you." His words come out so quietly I almost don't hear them.
"No, We'll find the fucker first and I'll personally rip his head off and piss down his throat." The words from Carlisle seemed filled with conviction, but my eyes never left Edward's. His concern seemed more than one might feel for a partner, but I wasn't about to get my hopes up.
To Be Continued…..