Fabricati Diem.
Summary: Lei remembers Detective Bryan Fury, pre-cybernetic enhancements. Steve Fox helps him to track down the remaining Mishima Zaibatsu laboratories & they work together in hopes of shutting them down for good. Slash.
1/?
Eventual Bryan x Lei, possible Lei x Steve. Rating unlikely to go higher than whatever this site's equivalent of 15 is. Here's the setup, anyway.
'What's wrong?'
Lei had been staring very intently at the desk occupied by one of the force's new recruits, thinking about the era when the triangular plaque on the desk had read "Detective B. Fury", if he was going to be honest. But he wasn't, because he didn't want Steve to think he was unhealthily interested, because he wasn't and it wouldn't do for Steve to think that.
He had been thinking it wasn't right that it was the same desk, that there was the same blackened patch on one corner where the finish had started to peel away because Bryan was forever playing with his lighter with restless hands, longing to set alight the reports he had pending but settling instead for scorching ugly marks into police property.
He tried not to glance across to it so often, didn't like missing the scowl he'd be greeted with if it was one of those days where Bryan was furious with the amount of paperwork he'd accumulated, or furious at being reminded he had superiors to satisfy. But Lei did miss it, just like he missed the leer that would transform into a grin whenever Bryan realised he'd been caught, on days when there wasn't any paperwork. Or early in the mornings when Bryan would crash through his desk with enough force to knock pots of biros to the floor on desks five metres away from his own. This noisy production seemed exclusively reserved for times when Lei had nodded off at his desk.
Once a report that should have gone straight to Bryan's desk found its way to his own, and Lei had just stared at the scruffy handwriting for a while, mystified. He had wondered if Bryan had done it on purpose so Lei would have to take it back and have a conversation with him. The fact that he was obsessing didn't occur to him until much later. Of course, when he had strode over to the younger man's desk (fully intending to cut short any inappropriate conversation with a 'be quiet!' and to possibly tell him to stop grinning in Lei's direction because it was rude, of course) Bryan had simply snatched the report back, muttered under his breath about knowing he hadn't lost it, and then grunted in a way that made it impossible to distinguish whether he said 'fuck off' or 'thank you'.
So Lei was well aware it would seem, from the outside, like his preoccupation with Fury was unhealthy. So the only thing to say to Steve when he asked 'what's wrong?' was 'nothing at all'. He felt bad, because Steve looked worried and the response did nothing to change that expression, apart from perhaps to wound Steve a little.
'I've always told you what's been on my mind, Lei, and I can understand if you don't want to share whatever it is with me, but if you change your mind…' Steve trailed off. Lei stared at the thinning carpet, wishing he could have lied easily and told Steve he was concerned about a case. He didn't want to lie to him though.
'I know I can talk to you. Thanks,' Lei said, smiling and trying to force sincerity into it. Steve nodded, though he looked far from convinced.
'You didn't hear anything I said before, either, did you? About the Mishima Zaibatsu Labs?'
Lei rubbed the back of his neck and looked sheepish. Steve rolled his eyes but he was smiling, 'It's all right, I'll tell you again.'
He'd devoted more and more of his time to helping Steve lately; bringing down the Zaibatsu was only the beginning. The facilities for research and testing were scattered globally, and it was tedious following the paper trails around in circles all alone. After learning of his origins, Steve was naturally hateful towards the Zaibatsu, he didn't mind helping Lei if it meant no more creations like himself. He said it with such venom that Lei couldn't find the right words to say that maybe it wasn't so bad; maybe making a Steve was the one good thing to come from those laboratories. Instead Lei nudged his glasses up to the bridge of his nose and peered at the papers scattered around him, sitting cross-legged on Steve's living room floor.
'I'm starving, do you want to order something?' Steve asked lightly, none of his previous distaste apparent. Lei brushed off the sheets of type on his lap and got to his feet, stepping carefully through the stacks of paperwork and photographs. Steve looked at him expectantly, the phone in one of his hands and the take-out menu in the other, 'here choose something. I'm certainly not cooking again. That was a disaster.'
Lei smiled and glanced over the menu he'd been handed, listening to Steve talk and laughing softly. He didn't think about Bryan Fury at all that night.
TBC
Note: Crits and comments appreciated, and flames are yummy.