Hi all, it's been a while since I posted something new here. Finally found the time and energy to write again. I hope you'll enjoy what I have to offer. I think this is my first story featuring Dan Robbins so I'd like to dedicate it to the lovely "Kahva" who does the character so much justice in her stories that she should be proud. I also want to thank the wonderful "Meixel" for planting the seeds in her too-good-to-pass-up-challenge-of-the-month.
On a side note, I've noticed there are so many new stories and a couple of new writers joining the fandom in recent months. It's so good to see fresh pieces and new names. Please don't be offended if I've not read or reviewed your stories but I'm just slowly getting back into the swing of things :-)
Tanith
It was late one Saturday night and Dan took the call out to provide assistance in a domestic disturbance. With San Francisco's finest running thin across the city, the chances of a back-up unit arriving in a timely manner at the address in question was touch and go. Having sworn an oath to serve and protect, Dan didn't hesitate to answer the call of duty knowing that he was taking a risk – perhaps the most dangerous risk a police officer could place himself in. Domestic cases posed the greatest threat to an officer's life because he simply did not know what to expect, whether weapons would be involved and how many. He would also be placing himself in unknown territory. Still, Dan Robbins found he had no difficulty in putting the life of someone in need over his own and so the decision to proceed was one he had already accepted when he made the choice to become a cop.
The radio crackled to life and Dan automatically picked up the receiver.
"Dan, be careful, you hear me?" Mike's voice warned through the transmission.
"Yeah, I hear you. Don't worry, Lessing and Tanner are right behind me, Mike," Dan responded with as much conviction as he could muster. He knew that he was way ahead of any patrol cars in the area but there was no use telling his partner that fact when all it would do was cause Mike to worry as well as shatter his own self-confidence. Besides, the Lieutenant was on the other side of town, about to make an unexpected arrest. Unless he could travel at the speed of light, there was no way he would make it in time.
Pulling the Ford Galaxy he normally occupied with Mike Stone, up against the curb, Dan left the vehicle and sprinted up the steps of the house he had received the call for. The porch light flickered on just as he started knocking. He pulled out his badge case from the inside pocket of his jacket and prepared to make his identity legally known to the occupants of the house. He silently hoped that the call was a false alarm but his gut told him otherwise. The property was located in a seedy neighbourhood and the address itself seemed familiar to him. He stood, listening to the locks being drawn back and the doorknob being turned then wrenched open.
"What do you want? It's two o'clock in the morning, buddy!" The gruff voice belonged to a man in his forties, sporting a thick mustache and tattoos down his bare arms. Built like an ox and probably with strength to match, he wore a tattered, stained white singlet, faded jeans and to Dan's surprise, dirty work boots.
After sizing the man up, the alarm bells rang shrilly for the homicide detective. While the fellow in front of him was trying to act as though he'd just been disturbed from his sleep, the fact that he was wearing jeans and a pair of heavy work boots begged the question of why he would be wearing them to answer the door at such a late hour?
"Detective Dan Robbins. We received a call regarding a domestic disturbance from your address, Sir." Dan showed the man his badge and stood his ground despite the man towering almost a full head over him.
"Only disturbance I got is you. Unless you got yourself a warrant, git off my property!" the man snapped.
"Who else is in the house right now?" Dan questioned.
"None of yer God damn business!" The man tried to shut the door in the detective's face but Dan stuck his foot out, forming a wedge between the door and the frame. In one swift movement, he shoved himself forward and forced his way into the house.
"Hands up against the wall!" Dan commanded as he used all his strength, speed and the element of surprise to push the man up against the wall of the hallway. "What's your name?"
"Porthos the Pirate, pig!" The man spat in Dan's face then laughed.
Dan's stomach lurched sickeningly as the smell of the man's sweat mixed with alcohol and stale tobacco threatened to overwhelm him. "Alright, turn around!" Dan utilised what he learnt from his self-defence training lessons by twisting the man's arm in a way that forced him to position himself so that Dan held the advantage. "You're under arrest."
"For what?"
Just as the detective was about to reply, a small child clutching a teddy bear ran out into the hallway from one of the rooms. "Mommy? Daddy!"
"Sweetheart, stay in your room. Your daddy's fine," Dan tried to coax the young girl who stood a few feet away with fear etched on her small face.
Not a moment too soon, another voice sounded, followed by its owner. "Ella! Baby, go back to your room. Everything's okay. Mommy's here." A disheveled woman in her night gown hurried out of the room closest to Dan. She skirted around the two men in the hall and made a beeline for the child. Dan noticed that her face was smeared with blood and tears and one eye was swollen shut.
Through the commotion that entered the hallway and the sight of the beaten woman, Dan's concentration lapsed for the briefest of moments. But that was all it took. Just one small, almost unidentifiable fragment in time for the apprehended man to lash out and renew his struggles.
In one quick movement, the man brought his arm back and jabbed the young officer restraining him in the jaw. He twisted himself free and swung his fist into the cop's face. "Come on, pretty boy! Let's see what ya got, huh?"
The woman took a hold of her child's hand and ran for the front door but meaty fingers latched onto locks of her hair, yanking her backward. The man kicked the door shut and backhanded the small child in the face.
"Carl, no! Leave her alone!" the woman cried out. She was breathing heavily and her shoulders shook as her attacker grabbed her by the upper arms.
Dan picked himself up off the floor, ignoring the blood streaming from his nose. He drew out his pistol and yelled, "Hold it! Let her go!"
The man overcame the woman's struggles with ease and spun her around with brutal force so that he held her as a hostage, one hand wrapped around her throat. The child had backed herself up into a corner, trying to make herself appear smaller. "Daddy, no, daddy! Leave mommy alone!" she whimpered and sobbed into the fur of her teddy bear.
"Let her go. Come on, don't do this," Dan negotiated breathlessly. His heart hammered in his chest, screaming to be released. He held the gun steady, trained on the man in front of him, all the while praying he wouldn't have to use it.
"Fine, take the bitch!" Carl pushed the woman away from him as hard as he could until she collided into the detective's arms, then he wrenched open the front door, flew down the flight of stairs and took off running into the street.
Dan extricated himself from the child's mother, careful not to hurt her but fast enough to be efficient. "Are you alright?"
The woman nodded her head vigorously; though it was clear she was far from alright.
"Listen, stay here with your daughter and call for help. Get an ambulance, okay?" Dan quickly instructed before he ran too ran out of the house, in pursuit.
The chase was long and hard. Dan's lungs worked into overdrive to maintain his body's oxygen levels. He was sure the man he was chasing was doing the same, evening out the odds. Desperation and adrenaline drove both men onward; each knew that to slow down would mean their objectives would be compromised. Through the winding streets lit up by street lights and the full moon above, they weaved through the traffic, feet pounding heavily on the surface of the roads until Carl ducked into an alleyway. The sharp, sudden change in direction almost caused him to lose his balance but aided by the wall beside him, he pressed on. Dan followed suit side stepping and vaulting over upturned trash cans and other obstacles knocked down by Carl to impede on the chase.
Wheezing, Carl slowed down as the darkness closed in and he approached a fork that led into two more alleys. He made his choice to take the left fork but realized too late that it led to a dead end. Knowing he had no-where else to run to and no place to hide, he flattened himself against the brick wall. He focused on the sounds of the detective's laboured breathing and his footsteps hitting the blacktop. When at last the officer was well within his reach, he moved away from the wall, stepped around the corner and drove his fist hard into the man's belly with bruising force.
Dan gasped, winded from the unexpected blow. The next instant, his gun was kicked out of his hand and he found himself thrown into a line-up of trash cans toppling them over in his wake. Scrambling to his feet, he caught the glint of metal ahead of him and made a dive for his pistol but strong hands grabbed him from behind. Spinning on his heel, he swung his arm and felt his fist connect with his opponent's face, breaking his nose. He followed through with a solid punch to the man's midsection. Then kicking Carl's legs out from under him, Dan pinned him down and fumbled for his cuffs. The man bucked and trashed, using his weight to free himself. The vicious struggle turned into a fierce wrestling match with Dan unable to secure the hand cuffs.
Carl's persistence won out and with his now free hand, he clobbered the cop in the jaw. Regaining his feet, he reached down and pulled the cop to his feet. He rammed him against the wall then ducked under a wild punch thrown his way.
Dan cursed when his fist failed to meet its mark. The air was once again expelled forcefully from his body as blow after blow connected heavily into his unprotected side. Unable to breathe, Dan's strength gave out and his knees buckled beneath him. He knew he had to get back up to his feet but a heavy boot slammed into his stomach and all his body wanted to do was to curl in on himself to protect it but his survival instincts was telling him otherwise. Staying down would result in the worst possible outcome and he knew he couldn't allow himself to be placed in that predicament. Fighting his body's urges to respond to the pain as another kick landed in his side, Dan gritted his teeth and made a grab for Carl's boot as it drove forward once more.
Losing his balance, Carl crashed to the ground. He hadn't anticipated for the pretty boy cop to grab his boot the way he did and it only angered him more.
Dan lunged off the ground and tackled Carl. He gave the man two square hits in the face, knocking him senseless then reached once again for his cuffs. This time he was able to secure them on the suspect and read him his rights.
The wail of sirens in the distance signaled the arrival of back-up and an ambulance. In no shape to haul the criminal to his feet, Dan collected his gun with a trembling hand, holstered it, then leaned against the wall and allowed his body to slide down. Leaning his head back against the cool brick-work, he sat and waited for the rush of footsteps to meet his ears. Idly, he wondered how long he would have to wait for help to arrive or if anyone would even find them. He tried to recall if he'd passed any witnesses during the chase but he couldn't remember. Keeping his eyes trained on Carl who began to stir, Dan waited until eventually a stampede of footsteps did approach them.
The young homicide detective called out hoarsely, waving his badge as his vision blurred and he couldn't make out if he knew any of the uniformed officers heading his way.
For now, all he knew was that it was over. Until the next time duty called upon him and another life needed to be saved.