Notes: I started writing this after reading the first six books of FAKE. I liked Drake's character, and I liked how J.J. acted when he wasn't making a fool out of himself. Because of his obsession with Dee however, I decided to make this an AU in the sense that J.J. has never met Dee before and comes to the precinct after Dee and Ryo are a solid couple.

Note 2: Re-uploaded, edited, etc., because FF dot net ate any and all punctuation. Thank you so much, Sorryll, for pointing this out!

Warning: Shounen ai/Yaoi (it's FAKE, this should not be a warning), AU, language (they're cops…they deal with people who didn't go through etiquette school)

Pairings: Drake/J.J., Dee/Ryo, other couples mentioned

Life…Such as It is

Drake really hated Monday mornings. He hated getting up on Monday mornings and going to face a homicide that he had just looked at the night before. Particularly since this homicide involved a former partner. Dead bodies were grisly enough on their own, but dead bodies that you know? Granted, he wasn't officially working the case because of his close ties to it, but he still wanted to keep his hand in it to help however he could. Which meant that he was there, on the still very ugly Monday morning, looking at the decapitated remains of the latest vic. The real special part of all this was the fact that his latest partner, Al Sorvant, was in the hospital with a bullet wound from the last case. Drake rubbed his bleary eyes with one hand, willing something previously unnoticed to show up in the pictures in front of him to distract him from the loss of yet another partner. No such luck.

"Heard about your partner, Drake."

"Huh?" Drake's head jerked up looking similar to a startled horse. He turned his chair so that he could see his coworker, Dee Laytner, who was casually leaning against the doorframe of his cube, a lazy smirk playing at his lips. Dee was considered by most of the female (and some of the male) staff of the 27th precinct to be a "dashing" figure, with his towering height, dark brown—almost black—hair, and deep, green eyes. His features had an almost rakish quality to them, particularly with that smirk in place—a fact that Drake had noted early on while watching the female and male staff fall all over themselves to attract the detective's attention. Unfortunately for all those admirers, Dee was totally and completely in love with his partner, Randy "Ryo" McClaine.

Ryo was a complete study in contrasts with Dee. Quiet and unassuming, he frequently was the one to pull Dee's ass out of trouble with the chief of the department—and now with the new commissioner. Drake liked to describe the blonde as the silent threat, as Ryo only displayed a frown when irritated, really only reacting when the problem had reached the point past no return. After that point, you ran for cover from the impending eruption. He particularly would get annoyed when someone mistook his slender, slightly effeminate build and honey-blonde hair for "dumb and weak." His other hot button was all of Dee's admirers, and one of his own persistent pursuers: commissioner Berkley Rose. Rose was also a hot button of Dee's, because the man never backed off of his pursuit of Ryo.

Right then however, Drake would have gleefully welcomed Rose into the room to distract Dee from what was looking to be a rather long round of needling.

"Your partner. Al? The one that is now residing in the hospital? The one that's now—" Before Dee could finish his sentence, Drake had stood up quickly, marched over to where Dee was standing, and grabbed a rather large handful of the brunette's collar.

"Fuck off, Laytner. I ain't in the mood," he growled before releasing the other man's shirt. Dee's eyes had widened to an extent that would have been comical to observe, if not for the fact that his barbs had struck a particular nerve. Fortunately for him, Ryo chose that moment to walk into the cube. The blonde, sensing the hostilities in the air, looked from Drake—who was glaring daggers at Dee—to Dee himself, who was looking a little bit shaken by his mild-mannered friend's behaviour. Mentally rolling his eyes at Dee's lack of social skills, Ryo gave a small sigh before plastering a little smile on his face and walked into the room, hooking his arm through Dee's.

"Hello, Drake. How are you holding up?" Drake sighed before turning his gaze towards Ryo

"Just peachy, Ryo, can't you tell?" he drawled, a crooked smile on his face. The blond chuckled softly.

"Glad to hear it. Sorry to cut this social session short, but Rose wanted to see me and Dee. Dee?" Ryo tugged on his lover's arm, patently ignoring the stormy set of Dee's face at the mention of the word "Rose."

"Wonder what he wants now," Dee muttered under his breath, grudgingly allowing himself to get dragged along. Ryo shrugged in response, to which Dee shot him a dark look. "Gee. That's helpful." Drake bit back a small grin watching Dee dig in his heels before reaching the door.

"I think it has to do with the Marmon case," Ryo replied, glaring at Dee. Drake cringed, hearing his reason for being in the office at this hideous hour mentioned aloud. The Marmon case was a tricky string of murders—with no specific target in mind; just random people with no common links. It was called the "Marmon" case by the department because Drake's partner, Philip Marmon, had been the second victim. His remains—including his severed head and left hand—had been found about a block away from Marmon's apartment. That was always the case with the victims: the head and some other body part were left at the scene—but the eyes were almost always gouged out from the victim's head. It was a rather grisly case, with the death count now totaling about nine.

"Yeah, yeah," Dee grumbled. "He'll want to bitch at us about the progress on the case, try to find some lame-ass excuse to transfer or fire me—still without success I might add, and try to proposition you. Woo-fucking-hoo." He glared at Drake who was, by this point, chuckling. Ryo gave his lover a quick kiss on the cheek and tugged gently on Dee's arm once more. The other detective sighed, rolled his eyes and followed his partner through the door. "Might as well get this farce of a meeting over with," he said sourly. "It won't do to keep his highness waiting. Later, Drake," he called out over his shoulder.

"Later," Drake replied, grinning at the exchange. He liked watching Dee grouse about things. It distracted him from teasing everyone else—not to mention that Ryo was rather inventive in his ways of dragging Dee out of his funk.

Nothing like dishing shit out with Dee and Ryo. At least my mood's better. He then saw the collection of paperwork piled on his desk and groaned. Pretty soon I'm gonna have my own damn forest! Sighing again, he flopped down in his chair to begin writing. No sooner did he have his pen to one of the offending documents than his door was flung open yet again.

"It'd better be good, Ted," he growled, previous good mood forgotten. He heard a dry laugh in response.

"Still as sharp as ever, eh, Drake?" Ted asked, shaking his head. "Still don't know how you do that." Drake leveled a look at him briefly before turning back to his work.

"I'm psychic. Now, what the hell do you want?" Ted's eyebrows flew up in surprise. Drake looked up, caught the expression, and sighed. "Sorry, Ted. It's been a really shitty week for me."

"Not a problem. I've had hellish weeks too," Ted replied, waving a hand. Drake snorted derisively.

"Yeah, but you don't have the 'Parker curse' hovering around you," he muttered, looking back down at the document on his desk. His friend laughed good-naturedly, determined to raise Drake's spirits—whether the other detective wanted it or not.

"True enough. Though you never know, it could just be this office itself. Dee and Ryo had no end of grief when they had this office." Drake grinned slightly in remembrance of all the chaos that had occurred from down the hall in his old office. Usually it was Dee hitting on Ryo, who at the time wasn't interested. There would be loud crashes and howls of pain, with a self-righteous Ryo exiting, followed by a rather pitiful Dee begging forgiveness. It was the main reason that Drake had been reassigned to that office; the chief figured that if they were right across from his office, they might behave better. Drake inclined his head in Ted's direction in silent assent, before raising an eyebrow at the man's continual presence in his office.

"All right already, Drake. Learn some patience, will you?" Ted said, laughing. "Anne and I were both wondering if you'd like to come for dinner tonight." Drake's other eyebrow rose. As far as he knew, Anne wasn't especially fond of him. "I know Jesse'd be glad to see you," his friend continued, ignoring his expression.

Ah, that would explain it. While Ted's live-in girlfriend didn't particularly like him, Ted's daughter—Jesse—had known Drake since she was in diapers. She also had Ted wrapped around her ten-year-old finger. The detective sighed and gave a slight smile to his friend.

"Sure. I'd like that. What time?"

"Oh, around 6:30 or so. That work for you?" At Drake's tired nod, Ted smiled. "Great. Now that that is settled, I need to get some actual work done. See you tonight, Drake." Drake waved absently as Ted exited the office, his focus back on the paperwork. He had managed about half a stack when his door was thrust open yet again. Glaring down at his paperwork, and pondering how badly it'd piss off the chief if he installed a deadbolt on the door, he looked up waiting for the catastrophic emergency that required his—and only his—attention now. Dee, who was standing in the doorway, ignored the dark look and waved before walking over and sitting on the spare desk.

"Doesn't anyone here ever knock?" Drake growled, waiting for Ryo to follow as he always did. The blonde soon appeared, an apologetic expression on his face.

"Sorry, Drake. Rose finished up with us—rather, Dee and Rose finished up," Ryo said wryly, giving Dee a sidelong look.

Translation, Drake thought to himself, sparing a small grin. Dee got pissed over something that Rose said or did—most likely deliberately—and retaliated. Rose then threatened, as he always does, to fire Dee, and Ryo made excuses and hauled both their asses out of the office. Ah office politics. And the administration wondered why I never wanted to run for student government in school.

"So…does that mean that 'Sunshine and Rainbows' over there is ready to meet with me?" Drake asked, running a hand through his thoroughly tousled brown hair. Dee, giving a rather sheepish grin, nodded—deftly dodging Ryo's well-placed elbow. "Wonderful. Do remind my family of my vast sacrifices for your asses at my eulogy, will you?" Ryo rolled his eyes as he hauled Dee out the door, presumably to get some work done.

"Drama much?" Drake motioned them out with his hands.

"Get before I need to use these brandy-used-new boots to shove you." Dee mock-saluted as he was being hauled away. Drake closed his door again, laughing softly.

Ah, well, he thought to himself grimly. As Dee put it, might as well get this farce of a meeting over with. He grabbed what few papers would make out the beginnings of a report and left his office. Anyone who saw him in the hall decided it wise not to bother him. It was, after all, the well-honored "executioner's walk." The one taken when you knew you were about to get all kinds of hell from the boss. They only bore a muted empathy and sympathy at his long trudge down the hall to the corner—that was, until Drake had decided enough was enough and bellowed at them to quit staring at him.

ooOOooOOoo

At first, I was going to make this a one-shot story, but ideas just kept getting away from me. That, and I lost the spiral that contained the original draft of this thing. There wasn't much more to type, and I was going to be winging the rest, so hopefully, more will be forthcoming. Feedback, as always, would be lovely!

Cheers!!

~Rosethorn