Rae: Finally, another chapter up! I'm sorry, my muse ran out on me. I managed to kick and beat him til he came back, and he's going to stay if he knows what's good for him. On the bright side I've finished my first year of uni so updates -should- be faster! (So she says...)
Anyway, enjoy, and thanks to my wonderful beta for a quick go-over despite being knackered! x
"Jazz you shouldn't even be here," said Adam agitatedly, trying again to grab at the slippery lieutenant in front of him, but Jasper just danced out of the way with a cackle. "Give me those. Now."
"Why?" Jazz stepped around Adam's desk further as the brunette made towards him. "It ain't like yeh need 'em right now." They remained at opposite sides of the desk eyeing each other, one with an expression of sheer irritation tinged with exasperated amusement and the other with nothing but teasing mirth drawn across his features. Adam shifted round to try and catch Jazz off-guard, but the dreadlocked man was far too fast and they found themselves facing each other again on different sides of the desk. Jasper raised the handcuffs he'd yoinked off his partner, swinging them around one finger.
"Jazz..." Adam chased him around again to the lieutenant's snickers.
"What're yeh gonna do, arrest meh? Kinda hard t'do that, don'tcha think?"
Adam paused for several seconds, gaze never leaving Jazz's, and then a smirk was the only warning the saboteur got before the detective launched himself over the top of his desk and landed on top of Jazz on the other side. He wrestled the handcuffs from a dark hand and skittered away to the other end of the room, securing them to his belt and glaring at Jazz who was still lying on the floor in surprise.
There was silence for a minute, and then Jazz burst out laughing. He laughed so hard he curled in on himself holding his stomach, entire body vibrating, a full, rich, musical sound that made Adam want to hear more of it. When the giggles eventually subsided the wide grin remained, and he flipped himself up off the floor and dusted his clothes off. "Man Prowler, talk 'bout a surprise attack! I never expected that kinda thing from yeh, let alone lettin' yerself b' dragged int' th'game in th'firs' place."
"You took my stuff," retorted the detective. "I wanted it back."
"Still..." Jazz sighed happily and flopped backwards into Adam's chair. His hand came up and switched off his visor, and his head fell back over the top of the chair back as his golden eyes slid closed. He heard Adam walk steadily back towards him but didn't move, thinking the brunette only wanted to get some of his papers. What he didn't anticipate were the handcuffs that snapped around his wrists, effectively trapping them behind the chair back. He sent a startled look to where he thought Adam was; his visor was manually operated, and because he couldn't reach up and turn it back on he couldn't actually see what was going in that beautiful head of Adam's, let alone the detective himself.
His question was answered when he felt a warm body sit down on his lap, legs either side of his own, and a pair of lips capture his fairly forcefully. He groaned in loss when they left his, and Adam chuckled.
"What? It was your suggestion I arrest you," he grinned.
"Kinky bastard," muttered Jazz, completely uncaring that he was still blind. "I didn't mean it like this!"
"Are you complaining?"
Jazz gave him a disbelieving look. "Do I look like I'm complainin'?"
"Good. Then shut up." Those familiar lips descended on his once more, and his world was lost.
Byron shook his head as he passed Jasper making his way down to the garage with a wide grin on his face, and a flash of bruised skin in the dark neck seemed to confirm what his mind was telling him.
"Hey man," he said, snatching Jazz's arm and halting him in his steps, "Ya might wanna hide that hickey a bit better. You and Adam'll be gettin' a lot of weird questions otherwise." A look of surprise shot across the saboteur's face, followed closely by confusion.
"Thought we were keepin' it on th'down-low," he said quietly.
"Oh you are," reassured Byron, letting go of Jazz's arm, "I just take the time to actually look at my fellow co-workers. I noticed somethin' between you two. Adam confirmed it yesterday when you had that break-down on us."
"Ah." Jazz rubbed absently at the mark on his neck. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that."
"What're friends for?" Byron gave Jasper a friendly clap to the back and started walking off, waving over his shoulder. "Better not hang around here too much while you're undercover. Catch ya later, man!"
Jazz watched the red-haired man go with a smile. In a way, he and the communications officer were quite similar; they both loved good music, didn't like formalities, were easy-going and relished a challenge. However Byron didn't have the haunted look Jazz had, the look he always saw in the mirror in both body and eyes. Being only 26 years old that look should not be there in any shape or form, but it was. He knew it worried those who bothered to look closely enough to see it, like Ryan and Adam, but he also knew that haunted visage would always be there and he'd just accepted it. Personally he was glad Byron didn't have anything like that. The comms officer's face was cheery, bright and, most of all, free. Free of the weights this world could throw on you, free of pain, free of burdens. It had been a while since he'd come across someone whose demons weren't strong enough to visible in any way, and it made him feel happier remembering that there was still innocence in this world to protect.
Even the twins Sunny and Sidam had the taint of a haunted look, but they were better at masking it than Jazz. It wasn't nearly as blatant on them. He stopped outside the door leading to the precinct garage and glanced back up the corridor to where Byron had disappeared. For all he'd done and been through, this precinct didn't seem to care. Orion didn't, Alex didn't, Simon didn't, Skylar didn't, Ben didn't... and Adam certainly didn't. They accepted him the way he was now, gave him a fresh start and somewhere he could start to call 'home'. His lips thinned into a determined line. He would do this, he could do this. Not for himself though, for the precinct. For Byron, for Orion.
For Adam.
Pulling up a couple streets over from the Broken Palm Jazz made sure he still had his burn phone and his earring was still intact. He swiveled it briefly, knowing he had to keep moving it occasionally to stop the skin healing to the earring post, and hopped out the Porsche. A stray dread was pushed back into place as he locked the car, and he scanned around him quickly before pushing off to the club. He grinned when he realized he could feel the bass rumbling before he ever heard the music spilling from his destination; apparently the DJ was having a really wild party.
As he rounded the corner to the club entrance two figures stepped out next to him, and Jazz paused to work out who they were and what they wanted. He relaxed a little as he recognized Sunny and Sidam, and backtracked a little so they could talk better.
"What's up?" He greeted as they leaned against the side of the building next to the club. "Sommat wrong?"
"No, we're just making sure you know what the fuck you're doing," said Sunny bluntly. "Morgan's not that easy to fool."
"Samuel's even harder," replied Jazz, cocking his head to one side. "And no, I ain't got a damn clue what th'fuck 'm doin'. 'M makin' this up as I go."
"What are you, nuts?" snapped Sidam, pushing off the wall and moving so he was nearly on top of the smaller man. Jazz just looked calmly back into the annoyed aqua eyes staring straight at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "The last thing you should do is go in without a plan!"
"Plans tend t'go awry a lot, Siders, I work better on m'toes. Spontaneity, thinkin' on th'spot 'n all that. Th'enemy can't work out yer plan if ya haven't got a plan t'start with." Jazz took a small step away from the taller man and moved his hands to his hips. "I know 'm gonna get found out eventually, that's a given. But it's impossible t'predict where, when 'n how." He sighed and turned his gaze back down the street towards the club. "Look, Foxtrot's known fer doin' whatever he wants whenever he wants however he wants. Impulsiveness 'n secrecy on mah part is expected, they'll b'more suspicious if that ain't th'case."
"Sides, drop it," said Sunny, slowly levering himself upright and straightening out his clothes. "Jazz will be fine. He might not have a plan in mind, but that's not what I was asking."
"You asked if he knew what he was doing," said Sidam, whirling to face his twin. "He-"
"And he does." Sunny smoothly and effectively cut off his brother. "That's all I needed to know."
"Where're yeh goin' now?" asked Jazz, watching Sidam deflate under Sunny's gaze. Both pairs of eyes looked back at him, and Sidam's mouth quirked upwards slightly while Sunny dug his hands into his pockets and tightened his lips.
"Back into hiding, where else?" Sidam shrugged. "We're staying there until you take Morgan down. He's out for our blood."
"There ain't a guarantee I will," warned Jazz.
"Sunny's confident you can do it, and I trust his judgement on these things. If he says you know what you're doing then I have to believe him." They both start walking away, Sidam shooting out a parting wave. Jazz waggled his fingers back, eyeing them curiously, and then shook his head and headed back to his original destination.
When he entered the club he winced slightly as the full volume of the music hit his ears, and he made his way to the bar trying to get used to it before his eardrums burst. He ordered two vodka shots straight up and a Bacardi and Coke. The bartender brought them over pretty quickly and Jazz pushed a 20 over the countertop, pleased to note his hearing was toning itself down a bit to compensate for the music volume. He tossed both shots back one right after the other, shuddering at the brief burning it made down his throat and the buzz it gave him afterwards. He pulled the Coke towards him, swirling the straw around and watching the ice cubes clack together, before his gaze turned its attention to the bar. It roamed around the room, searching for any sign of Samuel, Rumble or Frenzy, but stopped when he spotted another, different known face sat at a table near the entrance.
He'd never spoken to Naomi since she was pointed out to him at Blue Ice, but then through that chance meeting with Rumble here meant he hadn't had to. He studied the woman thoughtfully, sipping his drink. She was pretty, he decided. Quite strikingly so, actually, and with a perfect body to boot. Had Jazz seen her before joining up with Detroit PD he would've been putting the moves on her by now, but to his slight surprise he felt no desire whatsoever to do anything other than observe. Jasper sighed to himself and scrunched his nose up briefly. This was getting ridiculous; apparently his brain decided that he loved Adam too much to even think about someone else. He wasn't sure whether to be thanking it or slagging it off. Naomi's black hair shifted slightly and covered her face as she glanced down towards her lap, maybe to a phone, and then her head came up sharply to meet Jazz's gaze. He narrowed his eyes a little at being caught, but she just continued to stare at him unwaveringly with an unreadable expression for a few seconds until her attention was diverted elsewhere.
The dreadlocked man slowly swiveled his barstool round to face away from Naomi and frowned into his Coke, resting his elbows on the surface in front of him. She'd only caught him because she'd looked up from whatever it was that was in her lap. And it obviously hadn't just been a feeling she was being watched as she hadn't searched around. She'd looked straight at him. Maybe someone had texted her about him? If so, who? He groaned and let his forehead fall onto the bar counter.
"Not drunk already, are you?" came an amused voice behind him, and Jazz lifted up an elbow enough to see a bit of a dark red jacket and a few strands of blue-tipped hair under it.
"Nope, jus' frustrated." Jazz raised his head then and allowed a chaste kiss from Rumble before the seat next to him became occupied.
"What from?"
"Her." Jazz indicated towards Naomi by thumbing her seat over his shoulder. "I saw her when I was at Blue Ice a few days ago, 'n I was watchin' her a couple minutes b'fore yeh arrived but I think someone told her I was watchin'. She caught meh at it, no way did she jus' feel meh gaze."
"And you're concerned over who it was."
"Yeah." A sudden thought occurred to him. "Rumble, d'yeh know her?"
"Naomi? Not well, no. She's been around a couple times, but I dunno what she's like or anything. All I hear are rumors, and essentially they say she's like you except with more subtlety." Rumble grinned at Jazz's derisive snort. "And boobs."
That made the lieutenant cackle. "I'd b' worried if I had them, man." He drained some more of his drink and gave voice to his initial thought. "So she does work fer Russell. Or with him, at least. Think she hit th'prison?"
Rumble considered. "I wouldn't put it past her," he said eventually. "I gather she's plenty skillful enough. Sam would know better than me."
"He said he didn't."
"He didn't trust you and therefore had no reason to part with the information." Rumble shrugged and slid off the seat. "He still doesn't." He offered a hand to Jazz, who ignored it and hopped off his own stool himself, snagging up his drink as did. Rumble looked a little put out that he hadn't accepted the help, but bounced quickly back by stepping in front of the saboteur and lifting him up by the waist, making Jazz squeak in surprise and put a hand on Rumble's shoulder for support. Gold eyes met burgundy, and Rumble's smile widened. Thankfully he wasn't kissed, but he had to put up with being carried out of the bar because every time he wriggled to be set down Rumble would just tighten his grip. Jasper resigned himself to it, and scarpered a few feet away as soon as he was placed on both feet outside.
"I don' like being picked up," he said plaintively. "Don' do that."
"But it's fun messing with people," snickered Rumble.
Jazz huffed. "B' that as it may, 'm more curious as t' whether yeh've got m'test sorted out."
Rumble shrugged and shook his head. "Not that I'm aware, no. But then," he added, "me and Frenzy are just grunts even if we are Samuel's brothers. No one tells us anything." Jazz groaned and downed several gulps of his alcohol-tainted Coke, completely ignoring the straw. The dark-haired man eyed him for a minute and then piped up again. "Foxtrot, you'd've killed someone for doing something you didn't like back in LA. Something change?"
"Yeah." Jazz ran his tongue over his lips to make sure he'd got all the Coke off them. "I found mehself on th'run." He put the remainder of his drink down and shifted his weight onto one hip. "'M used t' havin' others runnin' from meh, not th'other way around. I was rash 'n foolhardy back then, sommat I've grown out of 'n gotten a lot better at not bein'."
"Well, I don't really care either way." Rumble moved to Jazz's side and wrapped an arm around the saboteur's waist. "Foxtrot is Foxtrot, right?" He leaned down and brushed lips to Jazz's ear. "What say you and I blow this joint and go have some fun?"
Jazz narrowed his eyes and pushed the dark-haired man away rather sharply. "I don' play bitch fer no one," he said shortly to Rumble's surprised visage. "An' I certainly don' screw around freely."
"But I thought-"
"I don' give mehself away like that," interrupted Jazz with an air of finality. "Yeh gotta earn a lot more o' m'trust t' even think 'bout tryin' anythin'." His unrepentant stare met Rumble's pleading one and held it until the younger man threw his hands up in an 'I give up' gesture and made an aggravated noise.
"Aww, poor Rumble's not getting any!" An amused, snide voice from behind Jazz made Rumble snap his glare to his twin, but Jasper kept up the air he hadn't heard and continued to ignore Frenzy. He'd sensed the younger's presence from the moment Rumble sat down next to him in the club, and the sudden idea that -he'd- been the one to tell Naomi popped up in his mind. He gave voice to the statement before he thought about it.
"Ya told Naomi about meh, didn't yeh?" It was a rhetorical question which was answered by the startled expression that morphed across Frenzy's face.
"How did you-"
"I ain't an idiot, whatever else yeh take meh fer," snapped back Jazz. "Why'd yeh do it?"
"I..." Frenzy looked lost for a moment before Samuel glided silently into view behind his brother, placing a firm, silencing hand on the jacketed shoulder in front of him.
"Ordered to," replied Samuel. "Reaction to Foxtrot sought and accomplished. Explanation unnecessary."
"In other words classified. Fer meh, anyway." Jazz drained his drink and crunched on an ice cube.
Samuel inclined his head slightly and then changed stance, body language indicating a topic shift since his voice never seemed to. There was no pre-amble. "Test confirmed, but unable to give details until test date."
"So I don' go rattin' yeh out. Wonderful." Jazz growled and fell backwards onto a nearby chair, slouching and waving his hands irritably. "I've got an order o' ballistics comin' in th'next few days. Can't yeh even give meh a hint so I can say when I need 'em fer?"
A shake of Samuel's head at the same time Rumble piped up. "You have your own weapons?"
"'Course I do." An eyebrow raised. "What, yeh expect meh t'trust th'weapons I get given by th'man tryin' t'kill meh fer fuck knows how many years now? Nu-uh. 'Sides, mine're more excitin'." A rather manic look flared very briefly across his features and shoved a piece of paper across to Rumble, who took it and examined it before passing it to Samuel. "M'phone number. Call meh when yeh can tell meh sommat useful 'n not before." Jazz stood up abruptly and began to walk back to his Porsche. "I coulda been out bashin' in some heads tonight, but nooooooo," he called scathingly over his shoulder. "I had t'come 'n get told jack shit alongside an invitation someone shoulda known better than t'offer meh."
He vanished before any of the brothers could say anything more, and there was silence before Frenzy broke it with a snort and punched his twin not-so-gently on the arm.
"You really know how to pick them, don't you?"
"Oh will you shut up?"
Jazz groaned and rolled over in bed, grabbing his pillow and attempting to block out the sound of something going off at an ungodly hour in the morning. Only when it persisted in getting louder did he realize it was his phone ringing, and he scrambled about on his bedside stand to find and answer it. A listen for a couple seconds to the ID ringtone told him it was Ryan and he pressed the call button. "'Lo?"
'Glad to hear you so awake and chipper,' was the dry reply.
Jazz flopped onto his back and massaged at his eyes. "Too early, Doc. What's up?"
'Wade thinks he and Percy have made some progress in your toxin request, but they've got to test it. Provided it doesn't go kablooey before we even inject it into the poor rat it should work. They decided to go with your 'poison-antidote' suggestion. We'd like you to be there, see what happens and what you think and then maybe help us put it into some rounds for you to actually use.'
"Sounds great." Jazz sat up, a little more awake now. "Any specific time yeh want meh there?"
'No, but you'd better make it the sooner the better.'
"Roger that, Rai. I'll b' in later this mornin' then." Jazz hung up after a quick goodbye and fished around for his visor, locating it pretty quickly next to where he'd picked his phone up from. A quick twist around of his earring to make sure it still did and hadn't separated during the night and he laid slowly back down, staring at his ceiling, debating. Did he try for an hour's more sleep or just try and get up now? Lord knew he needed as much rest as he could get, but once he was awake there wasn't much he could do to go back sleep short of sleeping tablets.
Jazz decided he'd been through much tougher situations than lack of sleep and swung himself out of bed, slipping on some slippers and padding into the kitchen. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes as he switched the kettle on for a cup of peppermint tea. Something spicy to get him going. He yoinked a mug and the tea from one of cupboards and a small plate along with some loganberry jam from another. The saboteur threw a couple pieces of bread into the toaster and sat down to wait for them both to finish.
The kettle boiled first, and the toast popped up as he poured the scalding liquid into his mug. Jasper let the tea brew for a little while as he spread a generous portion of jam onto the toast, and then he heroically rescued his drowning teabag with a flourish no one else was around to see. He sat down and slouched back with a somewhat satisfied-sounding sigh, and then began to eat.
There were several free spaces in the car-park this time, much to Jazz's disappointment. He liked stealing spaces from other cars. He sauntered inside, told the secretary as he passed that Ryan Chester was waiting to see him and disappeared down the corridor to the man's office before the receptionist could tell him not to or to wait. Jazz didn't wait for a reply when he knocked, and walked in to find no one was in the lab. There were voices from the office though, and as Jazz moved towards it the office door opened and Ryan stepped out followed by youngish blond girl, obviously pampered and (if Ryan's normal fees and the Prada purse she clutched were anything to go by) pretty rich.
"I'll expect you back next week, Jade. If I even suspect you've been using that ankle when you weren't supposed to I will sedate you and keep you here until it is all healed." Ryan waved a threatening pen at the girl, who grinned and nodded, obviously used to the surgeon's attitude. She sent a cheeky smile to Jazz on her way out, and Ryan pursed his lips to one side in annoyance. "I'm not sure who's worse, you or her," he groused when she was out of earshot.
"An' yet yeh love us anyway," snickered Jazz.
"How I do I really don't know," was the wry answer. "Now come on, Wade's ready for us."
"Rai, quick question fer yeh." Ryan grunted to acknowledge Jazz. "How much do I owe yeh fer this? Yeh gimme yer services fer free fer m'visor, not m'random whims undercover. I can pay-"
"No," interrupted the surgeon, straightening and looking Jasper in the eye. "This is on the house."
"But I-"
"Look, Jasper, the way I see it we owe you, not the other way around. You have no idea how far you've helped us advance in optical sciences by volunteering for the implant. You knew the surgery could very well kill you because we only had theory work and blueprints and no actual tests."
"That's 'cause I didn't have much t'live fer," returned Jazz a little sourly. "I figgered if I could nothin' else then at least I could help yeh further yer research."
"I don't care. You did it willingly and helped us more than you realize." Ryan picked up a clipboard and motioned out the room, an unsaid order that Jazz followed without question. "Besides, you keep things interesting around here. Without you and the chaos you bring it'd be pretty same-old, same-old." He walked down the hallway to the testing labs, dreadlocked lieutenant trotting beside him.
"I'll take that as a compliment," snorted Jazz. "I do try m'best, y'know."
"And a damn good job of it you do too," Ryan laughed. They reached research lab 2 and the door was opened before the surgeon even raised a hand to knock. Percy gestured them in and Wade's face lit up when he saw them.
"Aha! There's my main idea man!" Wade dragged Jasper over to the testing area, pointing out the poison.
"This was ridiculously quick Wade," said Jazz, eyeing the vaguely brown liquid sat on the lab table. "How d'yeh know yeh've done it?"
"Theories, ideas, schematics, chemical formulas- look, the point is in theory we have the right combination of chemicals to induce your thanatomimesis we just haven't put it into practice. The chemical composition was suprisingly easy to work out. Percy did a lot of that, and you know how fast his mind works." Wade picked up a needle and drew up some liquid from a small sealed bottle containing the same colored chemicals as the beaker still on the lab table. He tapped it to bring any air bubbles up to the needle and pressed the plunger until a bit of the serum trickled out the top and he reached his intended dose.
Jazz was dragged back slightly by Percy, but kept his gaze on Wade as the scientist injected it into a small rat. The animal went limp almost immediately after a squeak of protest, and Wade started attaching various sensors to the still form. The breathing slowed and grew shallow enough it was invisible, there was no heartbeat and the muscles relaxed completely. Jazz let out a low whistle.
"An' that's induced? It ain't really dead?"
"No," said Ryan, "it shouldn't be. To any onlooker or instruments, yes. To all intents and purposes it is dead, but watch this." The surgeon pointed at another small sealed tube containing a cloudy white liquid, which Wade reached for. He drew up some the same way he did the poison, using the same volume Jazz noted, and injected the rat once more. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then the sensor monitoring the heartbeat beeped and began showing strengthening contractions. Its breathing grew in depth and frequency and muscles and feet twitched before it woke up and struggled to get up. Wade helped it gently, grinning as its tail swung round in annoyance, and then looked towards the saboteur.
Jazz smiled and nodded, perfectly satisfied. He didn't know how Percy and Wade had managed to pull it off in one night, but they had and it worked and Jazz couldn't have been happier.
"Well?" asked Percy, scribbling something down on a clipboard.
"It's perfect," said Jazz, rubbing his hands together. "Guys yer amazin'. Thank yeh."
"That was the easy bit," added Percy. "Or, easier, anyway. The problem now is getting the stuff into rounds that look like normal bullets but won't actually go right through whichever poor sap gets in your way. We're working on that right now, something that will disintegrate to leave nothing but at least a dart or needle."
"Don' matter too much what they look like," said Jazz, shaking his head. "They'll b' Foxtrot's private rounds, no one should question 'em."
"You'll need to get the antidote to your victims within six hours," warned Wade, "or they really will die."
"Gotcha. I can do that."
"Here's a few vials of the antidote." Wade pressed seven smallish cylindrical containers into Jazz's hands. "I used barely any on that rat. Each round should have no more than a 50 milliliter dosage. Any higher and it's a poison with immediate and lethal effects, antidote injected or not."
"Alright." Jazz opened the small bag he nearly always had strapped to his leg and slipped the vials into it. He turned around to Percy and flashed the red-head a smooth grin. "Let's get designin', shall we? I got a while yet."
"Do, let's." Percy looked excited at the prospect of bringing the proposed bullet development to life, making Jazz's smile widen. Percy fitted so well into Byron's category of being nothing short of free, another one to add fuel to his protective fire.
He would see this through to the end, no matter what it took.
Rae: The fun really starts next chapter! Whatcha think?
