A/N: Thanks for the reviews guys! I love them and I love you! Well... I think so. You guys seem awesome. What with your superior reviewing skills. No adult stuff in this one, more just for plot purposes. Next chapter though, next chapter!

PsychoPanda: I thank you especially! It's stuff like that that makes me want to write more. If you have anything else to comment on, good or bad, please let me know.
Guest#1: Er, I'm glad it had that effect, I suppose. :) It's good when stories make people feel things!
Guest#2: Oh, I will! I have big plans for this story! It's been planned to the end, and I think I average one chapter every week or so. Be on the lookout!

WARNING: Minor language in this chapter

PLEASE NOTE: I will reply to the reviews that I get prior to uploading the next chapter. I appreciate them greatly, but it would be easier if you didn't do it under the name 'guest'. Either way, I will reply, it's just more for your convenience in finding which one of my replies applies to you.

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Well, it was safe to say he hadn't slept much. Reese stared at the man across from him with pity, wishing his friend would open up to him more. Ozzy had called the previous night at around three in the morning, not shaky, but nervous as hell. The speed at which he'd spoken was something any auctioneer would be proud of, although most his words were nothing but gibberish. Needless to say, Reese came over and picked him up without question at his request.

Reese prided himself on being a good friend. He was awkward to be around certainly, and clumsy too. But he was always there when people needed him, family or no. In Ozzy's case, he took special care. Reese's older brother Drix had told him to watch him and make sure he didn't get into any trouble. Drix had gone into the medicine career, but the schooling required for it had taken him far from Frank. He finished it with record time and grades, eventually coming to work at a hospital several cities over. He was almost a world-renowned doctor, with the loss of lives at his hands very insignificant to those he saved. Reese had wanted to be a photographer, but nobody in their family was aloud to make self-decisions. Drix had always wanted to be a doctor, so when their parents picked his occupation to be as such he had been happy. But Reese… well, Drix had stood up for him, but his brother had to learn to stand up for himself. As it was, Reese was getting harped on for not going into something more scientific. What was more scientific than forensics? He didn't know.

That being said, Reese looked at Ozzy like he was family. Drix of course kept in touch with both of them, but he was no longer big in the picture. The scientist was worried.

Ozzy sat in the booth seat across from him, hunched over his rapidly disappearing blueberry muffin. The Central Perk was his favourite café, and Reese had not questioned the request to stop there. The cop across from him was halfway through the sweet and had downed two cups of hot chocolate, now working on a black coffee, sipping it every so often. He hadn't said much except that he needed to think, and Reese knew he had to be patient. Whatever it was, something was afoot, and it was serious. Ozzy was seldom this silent, and it was disconcerting.

The man in question licked the corner of his mouth, banishing any crumbs there to his stomach. The scalding beverage felt great as it burned down his throat; destroying any taste of Thrax. In his head, Ozzy now referred to his moment of weakness as 'The Episode'. Any excuse to make his actions rational was welcome, but he could come up with nothing other than that he was drugged. But that was impossible, the only way it was even a likelihood was that it had been put in his drink. But even then, he wouldn't have lost his lust so quickly… and he lost it very quickly, he told himself. Still, the wine had gone from bottle to glass seamlessly, and Ozzy had watched the process. He was so confused.

Damnit. Damn Thrax. Damn him. Damn everything.

As far as Ozzy was concerned, the world could burn to ashes and he couldn't have cared less. The cop took a rather large swig of coffee, and coughed as it seared down his throat, ignoring the look Reese gave him as he did so.

Well, he had to tell him at some point.

"I went to a gang meeting, and I got some good information," he said at last, peering down into the cup of dark liquid. An audible gasp left his friends lips, and he waited for the reprimand. Reese however, surprised him by asking something instead. "Are you okay?"

Ozzy looked up, and saw nothing except concern in green eyes. When he nodded, Reese returned the gesture, sitting back as though he hadn't realized he'd come to sit up. With a sigh, the scientist ran a slender hand through frazzled red hair, before his face changed entirely.

"You idiot!"

Ah, there we go.

"Do you know what could've happened? How did you get in? Did they catch you? Ozzy, did they see your face? They could put a hit out on you! You could die! WPP, here you come! Come on, man, I knew you did some stupid stuff, but really!" Through his rant, Ozzy turned back to his coffee, inhaling the scent and trying to calm down. Normally he didn't take these things to heart, but he knew what Reese was saying was true. Then came the big guns.

"What would Drix think?"

Oh, ouch. Damn.

Reese instantly backpedaled, raising his hands in a surrendering gesture with a groan. Drix was a touchy topic for them, mostly because he and Ozzy hadn't had the greatest of farewells. They'd been closer than most brothers, but of course they'd had to separate so Drix could have a life. Ozzy… well, he'd been jealous. How fair was it that his best friend had money coming out of his ears, that he had all the girls crawling over him… that he had a future. So when Drix told him he was leaving, Ozzy retaliated with things he never should have said. He'd felt abandoned. At the time, he'd meant the things he'd said too, and the sting from that never really left them. It had taken Ozzy a long time to admit he was wrong, but he did eventually. Until he found out that Drix put Reese on him.

Before leaving to the big city, Drix had made Reese promise to look after Ozzy. It had been accidental that the cop had found out, and when he had there was no stopping his raging tangent. Books flew, words were spit and a punch of two went through the drywall. After he'd calmed down though, Ozzy had mumbled an apology and the matter was dropped. Alright, so Reese wasn't a bad guy. But knowing people thought he needed a babysitter was rough. The lack of trust, while not necessarily undeserved, still hurt.

"Look Ozzy, I'm sorry… it's just…" he looked up helplessly; wire glasses slipping down his nose. The cop looked up with a lopsided smile, soft and slightly pained, "No, don't worry about it. You're right. I should be more careful." The tension died down quickly after that, as Ozzy sighed and repeated what he had learned. A mutual decision not to bring up how he'd come upon this information was made; Silver didn't need to know all the details.

Actually, thought Ozzy, neither did Reese.

He'd said nothing about the deal he'd made with Thrax, or The Episode, as it wasn't really anyone's business anyways. Cops were allowed to have social lives, even if they were sleeping with the biggest crime lord in the city.

Reese whistled sharply, leaning back in his booth seat across from Ozzy. "That's crazy man. I didn't know those companies were in on it. I guess it should have been obvious though; I mean, they didn't suffer nearly as much as everyone else when the economy crashed. And connections in Russia and China? That's big Oz, that's big." The cop nodded his head in agreement, draining the last of his coffee with a gulp. "Yeah, I know. Silver'll have to get off my back since I got all this." At that, Reese looked uncertain, but nodded, twining his fingers and reversing the process repeatedly. He was deep in thought when he realized something. "So you met Variola and Thrax? Or, I guess you met Thrax, but you met the Mac's second best?" Ozzy nodded his head slowly, the information sinking in at the same speed.

"Doesn't that mean you could take him in? Thrax, I mean. We have him at the scene of the crime."

Holy shit. Reese was right. The cop let it stew in his brain, realizing that he had in fact caught Thrax in the act. But… in taking him to court, it would mean admitting to several things he hadn't told Reese about. It would put Thrax behind bars for sure… at the cost of his own reputation and job, not to mention other things. Ozzy had a small reputation, but it was still safe in comparison to 'The cop that nearly shagged the crime lord' to be certain. Swallowing thickly, he shook his head. "It does," he admitted cautiously, looking up as he spoke, "but if I let it go for now, we can get more on both of them. I bet I can do it again."

The scientist shook his head firmly then, eyes hardening. "No, you just want the thrill of infiltration again. Oz, you got away with it once, you're here, and you're alive! Leave it at that. He might get off again, he always does, but at least we're on to him now. We know his contacts and the people he does business with… let it go and be happy with what you got." But Ozzy was already standing, straightening his leather jacket. "No, this is my case. I got myself into it, and I'll leave it be when I'm ready to. Don't tell Silver, this is my news. Just leave it for now, okay?" Reese scoffed incredulously, watching his friend stalk out of the café.

"Sometimes you're an idiot, Oz!"

And sometimes, he thought darkly, looking at the bill then presented to him, a cheapskate.


Ozzy arrived home late, or early depending on what he considered to be morning. The sun was whole in the sky, but not yet close to its highest peak. The rays painted an orange glow on the building tops, creating beauty in a city desperate for culture. Ozzy decided it was late, seeing as he hadn't slept yet. Dark circles rested beneath his eyes and his back ached from walking all the way from the café to his residence. It wasn't really that far, but with everything he'd been up to it sure seemed to be.

He closed the door as softly as possible; aware some people were still sleeping in the building. The officer had had enough warnings due to being too loud too early or late. He opened up the closet and, kicking off his shoes, the cop tossed his keys onto the table and stripped as he went down the hall. Clothes dropped on the way and littered the carpeted floor. Ignoring the fact that his bedroom door was open, he collapsed into bed without a second thought, falling asleep before he registered he wasn't alone.

Shar looked at the sleeping man with something similar to pity. She sat perched on the edge of the wooden dresser, legs crossed at the knee and hands curling around the edges.

She had changed from her scarlet dress to more comfortable clothes; a formal white shirt and tight fitting dress pants. Sandals adorned her feet, showing off her perfectly crimson painted toes. Before a whore, she was a lady, or so she told herself.

All ladies slept with people for money.

Curiosity took over her person, and she slipped off the dresser smoothly. Her feet made no sound against the carpet as she swayed all the way over to the cops bedside table, looking over the nude man with interest. His back was firmly muscled and, though there were scars, the rest of him was unmarked. Unable to help herself, Shar got a good look at his ass. It was certainly pleasant on the eyes, as was the rest of him. Deciding to let him keep his dignity, should he wake, she picked up a discarded blanket from the floor. It was a simple white sheet, but she tossed it into the air was the efficiency only a woman is capable of. It gracefully floated down onto his body, settling as gentle as a mothers kiss.

The cop snored once in his sleep, and rolled over, mouth open against the pillow. Shar rolled her eyes at the distasteful action, and then exited the room.

Thrax had been clear with his intentions. He wanted to use Ozzy against the police, possibly hold him for ransom. A citizen was good to use, but an officer of the law far outweighed them, a stereotype or not. Along the way, though he would never say so out loud, Shar knew he also intended to take away all of Ozzy's dignity and pride; destroying him from the inside out. It was cruel… but it was almost no different than what she did. Somehow despite her lack of both those things, she retained a great amount of self throughout, and still lived on in relative happiness. Coming to terms with being a whore hadn't been easy, but she'd done it. But Ozzy… well, he was a defiant man who would be difficult to break. She could easily see him sticking it out in denial until his death, and that would make his life hardly worth living.

The idea of her coming for a visit was to make sure he hadn't wandered out or told anyone. She couldn't be certain that's what he'd done, but seeing as he had called Reese she guessed it was the most probably answer. Thrax had researched Ozzy and his past and current status, noting with interest that his best friend happened to work on the Force with him. Shar had been less than pleased, but a very long time ago she had given her word to Thrax that she would do as he said… and she was a lady of her word.

So, she was to provide Ozzy with two things. One, a means of contact between the two men, and the other a key with which Ozzy could get into the most secret of places. It was a ploy of course, the more trouble Ozzy got into with Thrax, the more the crime lord had to punish him for. Shar was especially concerned about this last part

Ozzy was the picture of pure defiance. He would rather go though immense pain and agony, go through the torture mentally, physically, and socially before admitting he needed help. She could tell by the look in his eyes. It seemed to her that Thrax was a monster in this way, and yet he was being merciful. In any normal situation, information leaks like the officer were just killed, or threatened into silence. Doing either of those things would be difficult, but it would be easier than leading him on like this.

It made her wonder what could be in store for the man.

Shaking her head, Shar decided it wasn't her place to judge either of them. Maybe Ozzy would fold. Maybe Thrax would feel bad.

Hah.

The woman pulled her purse out from behind the couch, having placed it there to hide it, and removed two small black boxes. One was lighter than the other, and that same one was also smaller. It was a perfect square, while the other was more rectangular shaped and palm wide. Shar took them to Ozzy's room and put them on the dresser, lining them up with the center and putting on top of the other. Content with her work, she left the room, hoisting her purse up and leaving the room once more.

She left the apartment, and locked it with the newly copied key she'd gotten earlier, and left the building with an air of guilt. She was helping bring Ozzy into a world very different from the one he was used to.

Shar hoped he had the strength to survive it.


The sun rose and fell as the hours passed. During that time, Ozzy slept deeply, dreaming of red cars and golden eyes. A particularly vivid recollection of how they had smoldered during the episode flashed before him, and he woke instantly.

Sweat covered his body in a thin sheen, and the dim sunlight filtering into the room warmed his hot body further. Groaning softly, the cop sat up in bed, putting his head in his hands and blinking his eyes rapidly. Normally images left him when he did this… but those eyes…

With a scowl, Ozzy flung the sheet off of himself and stumbled out of bed into the hall. Along the way he picked up his discarded clothes from earlier, silently berating himself for being so messy. After backtracking and tossing them into the hamper, he went to the bathroom to take a shower.

Already nude, he simply turned the nobs and hopped in, shivering violently at the ice water that hit his front. The building had hot water, but by the end of the day it was inevitably gone. Normally he got up early to shower, but well… he'd been out earlier that morning. The cop scrubbed himself with a fury, trying to get rid of the itchy feeling of arousal. The cold water should have done that for him, but… it wasn't working as it normally did. The sense that those golden eyes were watching him was overwhelming, and he wanted to touch himself beneath their gaze.

The soaped hand that washed his body went slower, while the other held the wall for support. Lower, and lower he went, making small circular motions as he went.

And then he snapped out of it.

Damnit!

Ozzy threw his hands up in the air, as though exasperated, and proceeded to finish rinsing off before getting out of the tub. The air outside the curtained area was warm in comparison to the water, and he'd forgotten to get a towel from his closet. Marching down the hallway nude, he entered his room and began sifting through drawers while still dripping.

The officer pulled out black jeans and a blue button-up shirt, tossing them onto his bed while simultaneously opening the top drawer. He decided to forgo underwear, as he hadn't done laundry in a while, and instead pulled out a pair of black socks to complete his ensemble.

He had only just pulled on his pants, and was drying his hair with his towel, when he noticed the boxes.

Halting the angry towel drying, Ozzy let it fall to the ground as he took the few steps to the dresser. The two boxes carried the sense of mystery, and this made the cop suspicious. He didn't remember putting them there, or even owning anything remotely like them. The officer glanced around nervously, picking them up and exiting his room topless.

"Hello?" He called softly, looking around the living room for anything out of place. There was certainly a pleasant smell floating around, a perfume of sorts that smelled of vanilla. Still distressed, Ozzy put the boxes on the table and went to the door. It was locked, but he couldn't honestly remember not locking it, so he didn't pay that much attention. Crossing the hallway, he knocked on the door with the back of his knuckles, daring a peek down the rest of the hall as he waited for an answer.

The door opened slowly, a small child peeking out from behind the heavy door. "Yes?"

"Er, hi, my name is Ozzy, I live across from you." Figuring the height difference would make the girl nervous; he crouched down with his hands on his knees to talk with her.

Shyly, she smiled at him, large blue eyes curious but cautious. "I'm Natalie. But my friends call me Nat."

Ozzy smiled at her, and then realizing his lack of dress, decided to hurry in case her parents saw anything. "That's a pretty name. Nat, can you tell me if you've seen any pretty ladies around here?" The girl nodded her head, and her expression became awed as she remembered.

"Yeah, there was a lady with long black hair. She had a nice voice. I said hi to her."

"Did she tell you her name?"

"Yeah, she said it was Shar."

Having all the information he needed, Ozzy said goodbye to the girl and returned to his apartment, locking the door in irritation. So Thrax was having him followed? Well, this wasn't part of the plan. He should have guessed something along the lines would happen… making sure that information was kept only to Ozzy was sort of important. Then it hit him.

He'd already told Reese.

Shit.

Now he was in trouble! Ozzy didn't care so much for his own safety, but Reese had had to get special papers signed so that he could pass the weapons part of police schooling. There was no way he could defend himself. Which left it up to Ozzy to make sure no harm befell his friend, otherwise it would be on his conscience for the rest of his life. That meant subduing Thrax somehow… he swallowed thickly. The officer had a funny feeling he knew precisely how the crime lord would have to be subdued.

Ozzy went to the living room then, entertaining thoughts of 'The Episode' as he went. There was no way it was happening again. He was shaking his head when he picked up the first box, the smallest and topmost of the two. The lid slid off easily and inside was a beautiful pendant. It was a black obsidian dagger, about as long as two of his finger joints and thick as a pencil. Eyes widened, Ozzy picked it up and found it attached to a long silver chain, meant to be worn around the neck. A gasp escaped him as the tip of the dagger slit the pad of his thumb, and he dropped it back into the box as he stared at the bead of blood forming.

Sticking his wounded finger in his mouth, he opened the next box with one hand. Inside was an incredibly expensive phone, a blue case and black screen. Ozzy picked it up and slid the unlock button, finding the phone to be virtually empty of everything. The home screen had only one icon, the contacts. Opening those, he found only one number in the phone, labeled simply.

Thrax.

The cop shivered at the name, closing his eyes and groaning softly around his finger. Realizing what he was doing though, he scrunched his nose and removed his thumb, annoyed at himself for thinking like that. A part of him wanted to put the phone back and throw it away, while another part of him wanted to take the phone and smash it into the ground. Ozzy instead, against his better judgment, put the cell in his jeans pocket and the pendant around his neck. He was uncertain the significance of the necklace, but he didn't want to risk losing something that might be evidence. His apartment wasn't really the safest of places, and that was the reason he didn't have a TV or anything else electronic. It had all been stolen. Leaving something so beautiful as the dagger pendant would leave it open to theft, and he couldn't have it getting lost.

So he told himself.

Deciding it was high time to get dressed and go out for the night, Ozzy did just that. Being off duty and not having to report in until the next evening, he put on the clothes he had designated for himself. Slipping on his shoes and leather jacket, he was out of there.


Thrax wondered only briefly what the cop would think of his gifts.

No doubt he'd throw them away, it's what he'd have done.

Still, the thought that Ozzy may have kept them was pleasing to him, and so the crime lord entertained that thought more so than the others.

Shar had arrived back to tell him of Ozzy's excursion with Reese, and the lord had looked up the other officer with quickness. He found that he was the other man from the news the other night, and other things too. The scientist would be an easy target, and likely a good piece of blackmail material should his own persuasions not go well with Ozzy.

With a sigh, Thrax entered his room, rubbing small circles into his temples to sate his headache. After the meeting, there had been many phone calls to make and papers to sign, dealers to kill and replace, more meetings to be scheduled. It had been a long day. With no sleep for over thirty-six hours, Thrax felt his body beginning to tire not for the first time that evening. He removed his clothes slowly, sighing again as his tired muscles began to ache with the small movements. Soon, he promised the, soon they could rest.

Now fully unclothed, the crime lord sank into his bed with relish, enjoying the feel of the cool cloth against his body. It soothed him in a way nothing else could, and as he began drifting off to sleep, he managed a single thought before falling unconscious.

The thought of a certain officer, chain around his neck, laying beside him.

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A/N: Thanks again guys, I appreciate the reviews and they make my day entirely!