A/N: I had honestly believed that "7 Shades" was going to be my last fic… but the muse seems to have changed her mind. This story takes me away from my well-traveled path, and it's rated M not only for the sex but also for the language and the situations. This might very well be the darkest fic I've ever written, and I'd be very pleased if you choose to take this journey with me. If the subject matter simply does not appeal to you, I'll understand your declining to do so. Come now; let's take a walk on the dark side…
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Their faces grim, a set expression in their walk, defeat seeping out from every pore, yet unwilling to give up in the fight. Such was the image the four detectives from Vice presented as they marched into Homicides bullpen. One of them stopped for a moment or two and seemed to regard Detective Jennifer Angell with something more than simple curiosity or appreciative interest. When he reached the door, he made a slight head movement in her direction to the other three, and the oldest looking one seemed to nod in agreement. Then they all went inside Captain Patterson's office and closed the door behind them.
"What the hell was that all about?"
Detective Don Flack Jr. had approached her desk, a cinnamon roll in each hand, and offered her one before biting into the other one. He knew it was a running joke, the way he always seemed to be eating, but he spent most of his work hours on the streets and you just didn't stop for a bite in the middle of a pursuit. So he ate whenever he got a chance, and that was that.
"Fuck if I know"
Angell caustic answer made Flack think she was in a bad mod, which wasn't usual.
"Bad day?" he asked, as casually as possible. He was also aware that she could probably kick his ass back into his own desk if she felt inclined to do so, the difference in height and weight unimportant at the time.
"Hot water ran out mid-shower. Toast burned. Case I had been busting my ass to solve was turned over to Major. Drunken witness puked all over my favorite jacket. And now those bozos come in here and check me over…"
"Bad day indeed…"
"I don't like it Flack. I don't like it one bit. When Vice shows up in Homicide it can only mean they've screwed up big time and they want us to fetch their sorry asses out of hot water… which usually means one of us is going to be stuck in a shitty deal that will take all the free hours we have and will probably end up not being recognized when glory merits get passed around…"
"I take it you've worked with them before…" Flack had been there, done that and was not exactly eager to repeat the experience any time soon.
"The chauvinist pigs… they don't want female detectives in their area, but when they need to bust a prostitution ring, they come looking for us. I swear they get a kick out of seeing us wearing skimpy clothes!"
"Nothing wrong with that…"
She sent a death look his way. "Not in the mood to bust your game, Flack. Thanks for the roll, but I have things to do, and I'd like to finish them before that door opens and the Cap starts hollering my name…"
Flack nodded and left her alone. He knew she could play the part; he'd seen her done undercover work once or twice, and he allowed his mind to toy with the idea of watching her wearing a very low top with a very short skirt and those killer stiletto boots. It was no secret that he had a soft spot for the dark haired detective and he indulged in harmless fleeting fantasies every now and then. He decided to save that mental picture for later, when he'd have enough time to explore it at leisure, and went back to his paperwork.
Soon enough, Capt opened the door and started hollering, but he didn't call out her name. Instead, he asked for Flack and Bartolucci and Gibbons and asked Garcia to go and fetch Messer, Ross and Hawkes from the lab and Pino from the morgue. Flack and Angell exchanged wondering looks and he went into the office and she went back to try and concentrate in her paperwork.
But her mind was working overtime; she knew it was no coincidence that Capt had called in the finest looking male specimens in the area. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something big was going down… soon. She was just glad she wasn't part of the whole three-ring circus; she really disliked working with Vice.
Forty minutes later, the door opened again and seven unhappy men walked out.
"Fuck!"
"I think that's the whole idea…"
"Shove it Messer…"
"Do we really have to do that?"
"Adam… what part of "mandatory" didn't you get?"
"Leave him alone, Gibbons"
"Aww, that's so sweet of you…"
"You look extremely happy with the whole idea, Bart, didn't know you swung that way…"
"Hey, watch it Pino, or I'll show you who's singing where…"
"ENOUGH!"
Cap's voice booming over their heads had them all jumping into attention. One look from him had them scurrying towards the locker room. Angell had been watching the whole exchange with a mix of amusement and intrigue, and nearly jumped off her chair when the Cap called her into his office as well.
"Detective Angell, these are Detectives Potts, Agnetti, Richardson and Silva, from Vice. Gentlemen, Detective Jennifer Angell…"
They acknowledge each other with a slight nod of head.
"I worked once with your dad, Detective, fine cop" said Agnetti, the oldest of them all.
She thanked him and centered her attention on Cap, bracing herself for what was about to come.
"Angell, Vice has requested our help in a case that has also crossed over into our jurisdiction. I believe you worked the case of the murders on Halloway?"
Angell loosened up a bit. So information was all they wanted. She could give them that. Let the guys sweat it for once.
"Two male DBs found three days apart, both showing signs of torture and sexual abuse. The first one was found gagged and the second one bound from hands and feet. They still remain John Does and the investigation is about to become a cold case as we found no evidence that could lead us to solving it. ME believes the men were prostitutes…"
Silva interrupted her: "We believe those bodies were dumped by the gay prostitution ring we've been trying to collar for the past 6 months…"
Angell raised an eyebrow. "Gay prostitution? No offense, gentlemen, but since when do Vice care about gay prostitution?"
It was Agnetti who answered her. "Since all evidence indicates that the godson of Senator Matthews was abducted and has been forced to work for them, ma'am"
Angell nodded in understanding. It was her experience, from her days as a blue uniform, that Vice stayed away from prostitution rings unless they got some heat from the higher ups. And such heat usually meant some political interest one way or another.
"We'd been working undercover for a couple of months now. Last week, we went in for a raid, but they got away. Now we have to start from scratch and we can't use any of the guys that worked the angle the first time around…" Richardson explained.
"However" added Potts, "We had a second operation set up, just to gather up more convicting evidence. Detective Maya Ramirez had been keeping phone communication with the pimp, and she had been working towards selling off her own "business" to him. He finally agreed to meet her next weekend"
"Seems to me not everything is lost, then. How does Homicide fit in all this?" Angell asked an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Maya has done a great job" pointed Agnetti, "but she cannot follow through with the meeting as she's pregnant."
"The operation has taken longer than we expected. It took Ramirez a while to earn their trust and start a solid communication channel… and by the time that happened her pregnancy was too notorious" continued Richardson.
"It was too late then to switch to another officer" said Silva, "and since we never thought she'd actually had to meet them, we let her continue on the job."
"And now that the first line of investigation is busted, all we have is her to collar these guys" finished Agnetti.
"But since she's pregnant…" Angell left the unfinished thought hang in the air.
"We need to send a replacement. And that's where you'll come in. You're gonna play the pimp part." Captain said.
"And who am I going to be pimping?" she asked, wondering just what kind of crazy scheme they had in mind.
"We've recruited men from all over headquarters that fit the mold and we'll photograph them for your selection album."
"You mean to tell me that you're going to try and get Flack and Messer and the others to pose as gay prostitutes?" Angell didn't know whether to cringe at the idea or laugh at the absurdity of it all.
"Not try, Detective. They're at the locker room posing for photographs as we speak. Having covered that, we only have left to discuss your attire before we send you over to Maya for briefing…" Captain's voice left no room for buts or ifs and she knew it well.
"Attire?" she asked, her throat suddenly dry. It was one thing to wear a ridiculous blond wig and quite a different one to be strutting barely dressed in a dark alley.
"Yes. You see, this gang is not only working the gay angle, they're also into S&M."
"S and…" Angell felt that the room got too hot all of sudden.
"Sadomasochism, Detective. Welcome to the world of leather and pain."
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A/N: Not bad for a start, huh? It all goes downwards from here…