A/N: Finally, I can hit the ground running with the next bit of works. This chapter (and by extension, the next/final chapter) is very little action but very honest, frank, and at times funny conversation. The interaction in this chatper between North Jump's two infamous Private Investigators was a thrill to write.. as well as the little drama at the end when the JCPD's finest get involved. Before we start, as your friend, I advise you to listen to the Pulp Fiction soundtrack... trust me...

Redux 1: The Watchman

She Dreams in Red...

Chapter One:

September 1, 2007:

The sight of the vagrant vigilante Garfield Logan in the passenger seat of Jake Dewalt's black Monte Carlo can hardly be considered unusual these days. Perhaps what one might find strange, however, is the pair's similiar-but-different appearance. Where Jake sports his usual brown suit and cream colored tie and shirt, Gar seems rather stuffed into his seat with his brown duster on top of a black button-down shirt and purple tie. Certainly any comments from so-called fashion police would probably be snuffed out by the sound of Metallica on the radio but their tandem icy stares might shut that thought down before the music could.

"You gotta run this by me one more time, Gar. Why the hell did you ask me to come along for this?" Jake Dewalt isn't usually an anxious man but not even 98.5 KFOX can drown out the nagging voice in his head.

"Maybe I needed some backup? Maybe I just wanted someone to clean up the ambiance while I conduct some business." Gar doesn't seem too interested in explaining himself but the itch in his finger to turn off the aging metal band is rising.

"Ambiance, huh? Careful, those are big words." Pushing Gar on the shoulder a bit, Jake keeps his eye on Gar to keep him off the radio. "Just kidding you big lug. I'm not used to you asking me to come along while you bag yourself a payday."

His moment for musical salvation will have to wait, Jake's defense is too good at the moment. "I was hoping you'd do more than just stand there and fill up the room with cigarette smoke. Besides, it's been awhile since I went hunting in North Jump. It'll be good to leave Downtown for a little bit."

Snapping his lighter on, the veteran P.I. sparks one of his cigarettes, taking in the crisp tobacco. "Thanks for that, by the way. Ever since your friends and Doctor Light's fanboys wrecked City Hall, the JCPD hasn't let me in the door. They say I'm becoming a pest."

Lowering his window to blow out the smoke, Gar's advanced nose recoils at the nicotine. "If you were working for JCN, I'd call you a pest. If anything, you're a flea."

Speaking through his tobacco stick, Jake takes a sharp turn to help blow out the smoke. "So I'm a tiny bug that makes it's living sucking the blood out of bigger creatures than barely know he's there? Thanks for the compliment, homewrecker. Guess that makes you the bacteria on the ass of the flea, seeing as you never contribute back. In fact, I couldn't help but notice I'm the only one who does the driving of the two of us."

Perhaps one of the few times Gar can cite the law on his side for once. "Ah but I have no car nor do I hold a driver's license. I do happen to enjoy the Bay Area's local public transport when I need to. It's nice, they don't pollute as much as everyday cars."

Jake ain't buying that excuse, it's time to call a spade a spade. "Uh huh. Where I come from, we call that a mooch. FYI, you hobo, gasoline isn't cheap."

"Keep track of your receipts and file it with the JCPD. Once we bring this shitbag in, they'll cut you a check."

Stopping at a red light, Jake turns to his associate with a look of disbelief. "Oh, is that so? Well, sorry Gar, I didn't realize this was a JCPD drop. When you called me on the phone, you said this was a bail hopper."

Caught in the lie, Gar can only do his best to appeal to Jake's financially desperate side. "I might not have been entirely accurate on the details. I'm sure the guy might've hopped bail before but now I've been asked to bring him in. Sorry, Jake, it's a side job the JCPD threw on me. They said if I wanted to work against the Desades and Bulletface on my own, I'd have to do some work for them too."

"Sounds like goddamn extortion."

"It's part of the job. I bring some criminals in once and awhile, the JCPD takes the credit, and I get some intel thrown my way." It's nice that Jake's not staying put as the light turns green; that could've gotten out of hand. "It sucks but it's necessary. Everyone's got bills to pay, especially the gas bill."

Spotting a McDonald's down the street, it's time Jake fills his own gas tank if he's going to do some extra work today. "I hear you, Gar. Fucking cops take advantage of us investigators all the time like we're some sort of rent-a-dick agency."

"Make sure you tell them to put this meal down for expenses. I don't understand how a young kid like you doesn't eat meat." Between the two cokes, Big Mac, the salad wrap, and one apple pie, the P.I. doesn't seem too happy to front another bill on Gar's account. "Especially considering how much bigger you've gotten since January."

Shrugging it off to genetics, Gar offers a counterpoint. "I don't understand how some people can shoot heroin or smoke crack but they do it. One man's high is another man's low, right? Besides, all that shit they put in meat nowadays, you're just begging for a heart attack, if the ecoli doesn't do you in first."

"Do you have to bring up ecoli while I'm eating? I get your point but a total abstinence from eating meat would ultimately result in a lack of muscle growth, would it not? Aren't you missing some essential ingredients a rational, healthy person gets when you don't eat meat?"

"Probably but I wouldn't know. Technically you can live to be over a hundred by burning a pack of cigs and refusing to have babies, that's not counting the gallon of wine either. Shit, if you'd like to live that way, more power to you, but the fact is it's a choice we all have to make. You either choose to eat meat because you like the taste or you don't because you understand where it comes from."

Of all the pre-job discussions Jake can claim to have had, a discussion on the pros and cons of vegetarianism has to be a new one. "So, let me get this straight, you've never had meat?"

"A few times when I was a kid, sure. I wasn't gonna be four years old and tell my parents "I'm sorry, I don't want to eat this hamburger because it's made of murdered cattle". No, I probably just went along with it. But, it's like this city man, once you know how it works and what really goes on around it, you can't turn away. Once I found out how chicken, beef, milk.. all that was made, I just couldn't look back."

An excellent point but there's one nagging thought about when they first met that needs to be asked. "Not even back when I found you in January? You looked mangy, hungry as all hell those few times we worked together. You wouldn't bite a steak if someone handed it to you?"

"If I knew we'd be talking about my vegan attitude, I would've ordered a second salad wrap, I'm still hungry. And no, I wouldn't have. Would've found myself a can of beans and just had that."

Alright, having to hear about ecoli was one thing but eating that all on it's own? That Big Mac isn't feeling good in the stomach right now. "Straight out of the can?"

Glance over to his side, Gar asks "Yeah, why not? Saves the trouble of finding a plate."

"Fuck that if I'm eating out of the can like that. I'll get myself a paper plate or a newspaper, something. Hell, if I didn't know any better, I'd say living in North Jump's starting to rot your brain."

Leaning back in the seat, observing the passing scenery, Gar suggests "I think being in the company of a North Jump P.I. helped speed it along."

There's something of a long pause after that before Jake feels the urge to change the subject. "So what's this dude's name?"

"Hmm?"

Gar might be a superhero with super hearing but sometimes he can be a super prick. "This dude got a name or is it "hmm?" Daytime traffic sucks when you're in the heart of an urban slum. Sucks even more when you just want to get a job over with.

"Oh, yeah he's got a name. JCPD says he goes by the alias name "Dark Rapture" or some shit."

Oh, that's just music to Jake's sore ears. Just what he needs on this fine, North Jump Day. "Dark Rapture?" Fuck me, Gar, the JCPD has you chasing down internet nerds now? What the hell did this guy go, jerk off to child porn?"

Lowering the window to take in the breeze once more, Gar ignores Jake's glare at the chill. "Nothing that simple. Armed robbery, Jake, the man held up a woman and her two kids at gunpoint. After he scared the shit out of them, he ran off with a couple fistfuls of the kids' money from the piggy bank. Before he left though, he pistol whipped the mom across the face with the gun, broke her nose."

So much for a simple internet troll, this guy has it coming, big time. "Damn. Seriously, is this world's coming to an end or something? Now why do these crazy motherfuckers have to go and ruin decent people's lives?" Jake laments, his agitation at humanity growing.

If Jake's upset at humanity, Gar must be close to loathing by now. "Ms. Sinclair wants him brought in. On top of helping the community at large by "removing a degenerate member of society", I found out later the woman he robbed just so happens to be a close friend of her's."

Seems like his little tip into the JCPD might be paying off for Gar these days. If Jake can't get an ear into the city's police, maybe his buddy can. That's a problem for a different day, however, this Dark Rapture has an asskicking coming. "Ms. Sinclair? You know when I gave you the idea to meet her, I didn't exactly expect you'd agree to work for her."

Slowly, a very gloating smile grows on Gar's lips. " If I recall, didn't someone teach me to bend people, not break them?" As Jake looks over at Gar, he's met with a cheshire cat's smile, enough so that Jake merely shakes his head and looks back at the road.

Time to conduct some business as the black car eases into a parking spot. As the pair look up at the fifteen story-tall apartment complex known as the Vago Project, there's a very real feeling of shit about to hit the fan. "Jake," Gar asks first "you ever been here before?"

"Yeah, once before. Let's just say it wasn't a very fun investigation." Opening the glove compartment despite Gar's protest, Jake produces his six-round revolver, checking the ammo before snapping it back into place. "Most people avoid this place; I'm willing to bet we'll be the first to attempt a citizen's arrest."

Outside in the air, Gar and Jake link up as they start moving for the entrance of the building. The children on the small playground seem oblivious but the large men in the gold bandanas are not. It doesn't take sharp eyes to see their hands moving for unseen weapons, these intruders posing a bigger threat than they care to allow on their set.

"What floor's your boy at?" Cold stares and cautious movement won't intimidate Jake although he seems to be getting the majority of said glares. His reputation seems to have preceded him, as usual.

While Gar could easily take down some gangbangers, he sticking to Jake's demeanor in order to keep the locals somewhat easier with their nerves. "Lucky thirteen, room 1337. I hope to hell this place has an elevator."

"Some stairs does wonders for your endurance." Jake reminds, the four flights of stairs to get to his own apartment a testament to that fact. "So what do you plan to do? Bet you a carton of smoke says he ain't coming willingly."

That's a crappy bet no matter how desperate the gambler. "Do what I do best: Hope my persuasive charm convinces him to consider standing down willingly." Into the building, through the old and worn-down main entrance, they spot the elevator and move for it without missing a beat. "If not, it's been days since I've had the chance to practice my punching technique."

Inside the elevator, Jake presses the buttons a few certain ways that Gar doesn't quite realize. However, when Jake offers a smile, it's obvious the wily P.I. knows a few more tricks Gar doesn't. "Press these a few times, the elevator goes express, no stopping until floor thirteen." Adjusting his coat, Jake keeps his eyes firmly on the door though, ready for whatever might be coming. "Anyway, I guess we just drag this guy in and we collect ourselves a day's pay." While the emphasis on WE was important, the curiosity bug strikes again. "I know what I'll do with that cash but what do you have in mind, Gar?"

"Got a little business I need to take care of tonight, a little social call." No flinching in the response, stone faced and honest. In Jake's estimation, a little too stone faced.

"A social call? Way to go, Watchman, taking Kristine out for a night on the town." Gar's slight surprise is snuffed by Jake's own story. "My baby girl's been talking about how her co-worker, her best friend Kristine, has some company lately. No booty call or anything, just a nice guy with balls of steel. On a whim I did some digging one night since Kristine wouldn't give up any names. Sure enough, I spot you leaving the apartment building one morning. Funny world we live in, right?"

"I think you missed your calling, Jake. You'd make an excellent reporter." Question would love this guy; he's as much as help as he is a pain in Gar's ass it seems. "As much as I wish it were her though, it's someone else. Got myself a crazy phone call yesterday from Antoine Desade himself."

Whatever joke Jake had going on Gar vanished with the air Gar used to say Antoine's name. "Antoine Desade? I thought you said you two haven't spoken since that shit with Scarecrow went down?"

"I hadn't. He wanted a personal favor, nothing big." Cracking his knuckles, Gar's impatience at the elevator's slow ride is starting to make his feet jumpy. "Apparently he's taking a personal trip up to Sacramento with his son. As fun as that sounds, he didn't want his daughter to get lonely. Since I've met her a few times, he suggested I keep her company until he got back."

There's a distinct pause in the elevator until Jake finally gets the words out his brain practically shouted. "You're serious, right? You're not fucking with me?"

If this elevator won't move any faster, Gar might have to transform and fly up the shaft to the top. "Not how I wanted to spend my night, Jake. Problem is I know this is my chance to get in deeper with their camp. The closer I get, the easier it'll be to take them down. I don't want to do it but I'd be a fool to say no. So if all I have to do is go out with her tonight, have a drink or two, and do the friend thing, everything should be a-ok."

Gar didn't exactly lay out the truth like that. Hearing those details changes everything. "So, Gar, you telling me you have to keep her company. Like taking her out on a date then?"

Rolling his eyes, the reply comes back quick as a gunshot. "It's not a date, strictly business."

With a notable ding, the door opens on the thirteenth floor. Out come the two investigators looking cold and ready to work. Jake, however, just can't seem to let the situation go that easily. "So then, I take it you've heard about everything that's gone down since June?"

There's a time to talk and a time not to. Seems like Jake's just trying to be an ass at this point. "Like what?"

"The usual political stuff. Bulletface seems to be setting up fronts in North Jump the Desades may or may not be aware of. Chinatown is now fully a joint Triad-Bulletface alliance, as per a source. Oh, and there's this fun rumor that the DEA and the NJPD might be ready to raid the North Jump Port Authority."

If only the DEA had that kind of nerve. Gar rolls his shoulders, prepping his body. "Listen, if the DEA has the balls to hit the Port, they would've by now. They're not moving in before I do and that's a promise."

Stopping Gar for a moment, it's clear Jake needs to put a limit on his brave friend's ambition. "Now, hold up man. Listen, I know you got superpowers and all but that place is no joke. There's a reason Bulletface doesn't go there, not even with all his guns."

"You think I haven't seen that for myself? There's a reason why I'm doing what I'm doing, Jake." Gesturing to keep moving forward, they round a corner and start for the very last door on the floor. "Desade's being backed into a corner but he's not beaten yet. The other night I watched the JCPD raid a Desade storehouse in Jump City by accident. Some local thought kids were breaking into this property across the street, next thing you know they're taking a drug seizure. Big time stuff, Jake. There was enough drugs in there to keep several hundred people high for months and that was just one, small location."'

"You got good ears if you heard about that one. The news didn't even report on it."

His tension growing with each step, Gar cracks his knuckles one more time. "No shit. It was an off-the-books pickup, no press. Believe me, I watched the bastards load it up and take it away. If the DEA hits the Port earlier, Desade will move his goods elsewhere. That's why I need to know his storehouses before I hit the Port so I can clean it all up in one shot."

While Jake can agree, he has own tension to worry about. Specifically about how empty the floor appears to be. "Off topic here, Gar, but have you noticed we're alone up here? I haven't seen one motherfucker yet."

Sliding the sunglasses onto his face, it's time to go Watchman mode it seems. "Looks like those men downstairs tipped off everyone to ambush us. That, or if we're lucky, they're afraid."

Holding his revolver in hand just inside of his pocket, Jake knows shit just got real when Gar's voice changed just like that. "Afraid of what? The two of us? Sorry but we're not that scary."

"Maybe not. But they might know someone's about to be bent really fucking far."

By four o'clock in the evening, the pair have arrived in Downtown Jump City with their unconscious passenger in tow. As per a phone call, Detective Rebecca Sinclair waits for them in the garage under the JCPD HQ. While the public may pay their bills, situations like these are best kept away from eyes and ears. Especially when the two citizens who arrested this criminal aren't sterling themselves. Gar's duster, already a beater as it is, seems more scuffed up that usual while Jake looks like he could use more than a bandage for his forehead. In fact, if it weren't for knowingwhere they've been, these two look like they've just been in a rumble.

Offering the pair a smoke, one that Jake gladly accepts, she marvels at the duo before her. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you guys were brothers." Sparking her own cigarette to life, she even cracks a smile at their misfortune. "I'm amazed neither of you are dead from the way you conduct your business."

An iron glare aimed at Gar, Jake remarks at their ordeal. "We almost were when this bastard dragged me into that crazy shit at the project. Damn near had a chest full of hollowpoint!"

Normally Gar can claim to be stoic and cool under pressure. Tonight is a different situation however. It's a shame he'll have to replace his prized sunglasses. "Don't blame me for this. If you would've let me go first, I would've stopped him from hitting you with that liquor bottle."

As she chuckles at their banter, the two of them turn back to the normally serious detective. "Yup, definitely brothers. It's been a long time since I saw you argue with someone like that, Jake." To Gar, the comment doesn't seem nearly as deep until the long pause between the P.I. and the detective passes by. There's a reason for that, one that escapes the former Titan at the moment. It's obvious that reveal isn't meant for him just yet.

"Either way, he said you're paying him for this kind of work, Rebecca. It's only fair that we get an equal stake in the deal. This way I won't have to bill the department for the food and gas."

Before Gar has a chance to argue further, Sinclair agrees to the deal. "You've done your fair share. It's not everyday the JCPD gets to pay North Jump's most reckless investigator for working in the city's best interest."

"Sorry Rebecca but it was a one-time deal. If I'd known this would happen-"

Eyes rolling, Gar laments this in honesty "Would you let it go? You're getting paid AND now you can take your baby girl out for a night on the town." The irony in that retort runs deep considering their discussion in the elevator hours prior.

Her own eyebrow cocked, the detective asks a bit intrigued and yet chilly at the same time "Baby girl? So, you're still with her? I gotta admit, I'm impressed."

That earlier pause between them begins to click in Gar's head as their gaze turns a bit darker than before. It's obvious this isn't just a regular friendship here.

"You told me to change, didn't you? I listened, at least on one thing."

Eyebrow back to a normal, cold gaze, Sinclair admits "Well, maybe you can change the rest of the things I warned you about before they get you killed. In the meantime, go to the front desk to claim your money." Turning away from the boys, giving a nod to Gar. "Nice catch for your first fish. Maybe next time you can bring me Desade or Bryson?"

"I'd like to bring them all if I could. Maybe they'd make me Chief."

"Don't get your hopes up too high, you'll crash back down to Earth." Looking to Jake, the gaze lingers just a little moment longer before she advises him "You better be treating her right, Jake. Just because you made a mess of your life since high school doesn't mean-"

"I treat her like a queen; don't tell me how to run my life, Rebecca."

After the money is collected, standing by the Monte Carlo, Gar asks the one question nagging him since the talk in the garage. "I take it you and her must've had something going between you at some point."

Money counted, Jake opens the door with a sour expression on his face. "Maybe in the past we did but that's an old story now. Life has a way of taking something special and killing it because of bitterness."

"Love's a tricky thing, ain't it?"

Getting into the car, Jake answers simply "No, it's a pain the ass." The car starting up, Gar offers a good night as Jake leaves without a reply. Pulling into the street, he darts off with a scream of the engine.

A tiny smirk on his face, Gar muses to himself. "Sorry Jake, doesn't take an investigator to see you have feelings for her."

A/N2: This chapter is a fun one because it has setups to the future (some more subtle than others) as well as tie-ins to the past chapters. Gar isn't some dashing, action-packed Bond-like character.. neither is Jake.. in the frame of this story.. Sometimes the little events inbetween are just as fun. And yes, I didn't show the fight because it wasn't the point... A little Tarantino of me but these 2 chapters will be an omage of sorts.. It actually fits the characters when you think about it...

Trivia:
- Room 1337 is a knock on Leet speak, I fucking hate LEET shit.
- DarkRapture, not seen but mentioned.. one of the reviewers of this story (I haven't done that much reference in this series, have I?)
- "... it's not a date" quote from John Trevolta's "Vincent Vega" in Pulp Fiction.
- "She Dreams in Red..." are some lyrics from Pearl Jam's song "Better Man".

Rhetorical:
Rose and Gar should be fun as hell to write.