Nineteen
Much to Jakes' chagrin and Morse's amusement, he didn't own a single shirt-and-tie combination that could cover the marks on his neck. He pouted the entire way to the station, and only scowled when Morse tried to kiss away his frown before they left the safety of the car. It was pointless. And the only suitable response, Jakes quickly decided, was to get revenge. He'd give it a few days, wait for the bruise and bites to fade, and then give the smirking detective a few of his own and see how he liked it.
Knowing Morse, the bastard probably would.
Either way, he glared at the retreating figure of his lover-boyfriend-partner as he smugly strolled into the police station, then he counted to ten and went in after him.
It was already obvious that he'd spent the night with someone else, after all, but there was no need to tell the world just who with.
He hadn't been inside the door two minutes before the cat calling and whistling began.
From behind the desk sergeant's counter, Strange grinned.
"Looks like someone had a good night".
"Oh, shove off".
"Just saying, matey" He teased, holding both hands up in defence, "It looks like you got mauled".
He hung up his coat with a sigh, resigning himself to his faith.
A nearby constable leered, "Fun night, Sarge?"
"Yes, actually" He bit out, before turning his back to him, "If you'll excuse me…"
The short walk to the office wasn't any less loud.
"Look who's doin' the walk of shame, lads!"
"Oy! Mate! Next time ask her for some concealer, alright?"
"Honestly Sarge, if you want to show off that much just bring her in!"
He kept his head high, marched past each and every nudge and jeer, and didn't stop until he was towering over the cause of his mockery.
Morse was barely trying to muffle his laughter.
He leant as close as possible with the desk between them, and stabbed an accusatory finger at his chest.
"I. Hate. You".
Morse grinned and closed the gap until there was a mere inch between them.
"That's not what you said last night".
From behind them, came a pointed cough, and Jakes leapt back as if scalded.
Thursday stood there, arms crossed, with Bright raising an unimpressed eyebrow next to him.
"Problem, gentlemen?"
"No sir" He quickly said, "Just a… a slight disagreement, that's all".
Thursday's gaze immediately latched onto his neck and he swallowed thickly.
Bright sighed, "And here I was, hoping that you'd both grown out of these playground fights".
"Won't happen again, sir" Morse added, smirking just enough for Jakes to see.
"Ensure that it doesn't, detective" He snapped, "Updates?"
Jakes immediately jumped into action, half-running to the evidence board, desperate for a change of topic in case Thursday got too suspicious.
"Yes sir. We know Gull is killing them based on characters from Richard III. So far, we've had Sarah Vickery as Lady Anne, Roger Allen as Clarence, Jakes Bannon for King Edward, Sean Rigsby as Lord Hastings, and James Bradson as both James Tyrrell and Lord Buckingham. The two boys, Eddie and Richard, played the role of the princes, but we saved them in time and both them and their parents are currently in protective custody".
"You said 'so far'?" Bright asked, and he glanced back at Morse for help.
"There's still a missing person, sir" He explained, standing up to join them at the evidence board, "Queen Elizabeth. Not killed, thankfully, but… indisposed, as it were. If he's basing his victims off of the victims in the play, then she should have turned up by now. Injured, definitely, but with a full prospect of survival".
"Surely there are hundreds of women who go hospital for bits and pieces every day?"
"I'm sure there are, sir… However, there are very few women who would fit this category" Morse continued, "All of our victims had some connection to one another, for starters, but they also had a name similar or identical to the characters. Eddie and Richard as Prince Edward and Prince Richard are, of course, the most obvious two, but Mr Allen's middle name was Clancy, and he played the role of Clarence".
"So, we're looking for a woman connected to at least one of our previous victims, with her first, middle, or last name some variation of 'Elizabeth'?"
"Yes sir".
Bright considered the board for a moment, before turning to Thursday, "Have we men posted at local hospitals?"
He nodded, "As well as clinics and doctor offices, sir".
"Good. Keep searching".
He turned on his heel and marched out, and Morse barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Jakes caught the action and snorted, quickly covering it up with a cough as Thursday turned back to them.
He stared at them peculiarly, "… That was no 'slight disagreement', was it?"
Morse abruptly stilled and Jakes heard his heart pound loudly against his chest.
Thursday nodded, once, as if confirming something to himself, before heading towards his office without waiting for an answer.
Jakes turned wide eyes onto the other detective, who looked equally shaken.
"Does he know?!" He hissed, and Morse slowly shook his head, "I- I don't think so. How would he?"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe it has something to do with this!" He snapped, gesturing at the purples and blues that littered his neck.
The younger man slowly blinked, before smirking, "Well, I did say I wanted everyone to know who you belonged to".
And with that, he turned and strutted back to his desk, smugness radiating from every pore.
Jakes narrowed his eyes and decided that revenge, was, in fact, the best way to go.
And he wasn't going to wait much longer to exact it.
Jakes couldn't help but feel guilty around Thursday all day. The man hadn't said anything, nor had he given them any more odd looks, but there was still something just there that made him want to run and hide for ever looking at the guv's unofficial son.
Morse, on the other hand, was acting completely normal, if a little smug, and continued working on the case, throwing himself into hospital records and doctor's appointments in the hopes of finding Gull's next victim before anything worse happened to her.
The rest of the station were hell bent on reminding Jakes of his pretty patchwork every chance they got, some even making up excuses to come into the office just to give a remark or two. Strange, the traitor, was fully on their side, and enjoyed ridiculing him every time he left to get tea.
So, needless to say, he didn't get much work done that day.
As a result, the day seemed to drag, as he couldn't focus on the files in front of him and kept imagining Thursday staring at him from between his office blinds. When closing time came, he jumped to his feet, fully intending to drag Morse back to one of their flats and give him a few marks of his own. As if sensing his intentions, the man in question grinned and grabbed his coat, leaving a few minutes early to put enough time between them so it wouldn't be suspicious.
His plan was abruptly cancelled, however, when Thursday came out with his coat and hat and said, "Run me home, Jakes, would you?"
It wasn't as if he could say no.
It was by far the most embarrassing car ride of his life.
He'd expected the guv' to launch into some speech about virtue or shotguns or something, but instead, he'd remained quiet. And let him wait. And stew. And wonder if he wasn't actually driving his boss home but instead was driving himself to his own funeral.
This was why Joan and Sam were such good kids.
Fifteen minutes in, Thursday let out a slow breath, and if it hadn't been for the busy traffic, Jakes would have squeezed his eyes closed, tight.
He turned slightly in his seat, not enough to fully face the sergeant, but enough to let him know where his attention was focused.
"… Jakes-"
"I'm sorry!"
"You're… sorry? What for?"
Jakes was currently asking himself the same question.
He'd heard the old man start speaking and could already sense the oncoming storm and had panicked, blurting out the first thing that had come to mind.
Only now he had no follow up and was currently trapped in a moving vehicle with the man demanding one.
"For… For not... telling... you?" He guessed.
"Not telling me about what?"
"You know about what. Sir".
Another sigh.
"In this moment, Jakes, I'm not your boss".
"… Are you going to threaten me?"
"Do you need to be threatened?"
"No!" He quickly replied, "No, no, I- I know full well what- what could happen, would happen if I ever- ever-"
"Ever caused him even one tiny little ounce of pain? Upset him? Angered him? Hurt him, somehow?"
"Yes! Yes, all of that, I- yes! I know!"
Thursday hummed, "Do you really?"
"I… can... imagine?"
"I'm sure you can, Jakes. But what I'd do to you, is a hell of a lot worse than whatever your imagination is capable of dreaming up. Understood?"
He pulled onto Thursday's street and let out a sigh of relief.
"Understood".
"Good" He replied, "Drive around the block, will you?"
He could barely change gears; his hand was shaking so much.
"You two weren't exactly subtle today" Thursday continued, "What with your neck and Morse's smug smiles. Asides from that, there were a few small telling details that you forgot about. Your tie, for instance, is the same one you wore yesterday, despite the different suit. Why change one without the other?"
"I-"
"That was rhetorical".
At this rate, he was going to die of a heart attack before ever reaching Morse's flat.
"What are your intentions with my bagman, Jakes?"
"I… I like him" He said lamely, turning right, "I mean, more than that, I- I really like him, maybe even… well, you know. I just… I just want him to be happy".
"And his daughter?"
"Abby? Of course, I want her to be happy as well! She's- She's brilliant! Funny and clever and adorable and just- just brilliant".
When had he stopped calling her Abigail?
"And in the future?"
"I don't see this ending anytime soon, if that's what you mean" Jakes said, taking yet another right.
He could feel Thursday's stare boring a hole into the side of his head.
"It's not, but thanks for clarifying".
His heart skipped a beat.
"I thought you and Morse disliked each other".
"I was… I was jealous" He admitted, "I mean, you know how he is, he's… he's just fantastic. I don't know, I guess- I guess I felt… threatened, by him, at the beginning. But after a few cases I saw who he really was. We… became friends, as such. After Abby came into the station a few weeks ago, it started to become something more. I… care for him. Deeply. A lot".
"And does he feel the same?"
He couldn't help but give a wry smirk, "With all due respect, sir, would I currently look like this if he didn't?"
Thursday said nothing, but as they pulled back onto his street, he gestured at a nearby parking space.
He gladly pulled in and willed his breathing to slow down.
"I can't say I like this, Jakes".
His heart sunk.
"… But on the other hand, I don't exactly dislike it either".
He risked a glanced at the guvnor.
Thursday caught his gaze and held it.
"If you hurt him, in any shape, way, or form, I will hunt you down, and I will make you regret ever even looking at him" He growled, "… Now, that being said, I trust Morse to make his own decisions, so if he has chosen you, I won't stand in the way".
He opened the passenger door and stepped out, leaning down to the open window once he'd shut it after him.
"Do we have an agreement?"
"Yes sir" He replied hollowly, "Agreed".
It took an entire seven minutes after Thursday had disappeared into the house for his raising heart to slow.
Jakes clenched the steering wheel tightly, palms sweaty and breathing ragged.
Fred Thursday had just given him the shovel talk.
And it wasn't even about Joan.
Okay. Well. He knows, now, so… so that was good? Yea. That was good. This way, they wouldn't have to tell him and… well… they could just continue on as normal, he guessed. It was fine. This was fine. They sort of had his half blessing so it was all fine.
Fine.
Taking a deep breath, Jakes closed his eyes for a minute before turning on the engine.
He was just about to pull out onto the road again, when he caught movement from the corner of his eye, and turned only to find Thursday running back towards the car.
His first thought was, unsurprisingly, that he'd changed his mind and is now coming to kill him.
His second, more rational thought, was that his boss must have forgotten something in the car.
His third and final thought, was that Thursday looked awfully worried, and had a touch of fear in his face that only ever appeared when-
Morse.
They raced back to the station and made it in record time, breaking more than a few speed limits along the way.
Jakes didn't care.
They burst in to find a half a dozen ashen faced officers standing around and distant yelling coming from the office. Thursday grabbed the nearest man and shook him, hard, "What is it? Where is he?! What happened?!"
He jerkily pointed towards the main room and they took off before he could get a verbal answer out.
The office was in chaos.
Papers were strewn across the floor, the evidence board was splintered down the centre, and chairs were upturned. In the centre of it all, stood Morse, shouting and raving and gesturing wildly with bloody knuckles and a rumbled suit. Strange, the only other man in the room, had him held by the arms, trying to get him to calm down but he kept yelling and ranting and-
"Strange!" Thursday snapped, "What the hell is this?!"
"I- I don't know, sir, I'm trying to- to find out but he won't- just-"
Morse managed to get a decent hit in and the older man let go with a howl.
Jakes immediately rushed over, grabbing Morse by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.
"Morse? Morse! Hey, look at me!"
The man continued to rave nonsense, a mix of words about the case, about his flat, about- about Monica?
"God dammit, man, stop fighting, it's me!" He snapped, moving both hands to his face.
Morse abruptly stilled.
Jakes was shocked and somewhat scared to see tears in his eyes.
"… Morse?"
He blinked.
"… He has her".
"He has who, Morse?" Thursday asked, cautiously coming closer, "Who's 'he'?"
"Gull" He replied, voice hoarse and breaking on that single word.
Jakes frowned, "Gull? He has- Hang on, did you find Elizabeth? Morse?!"
He frantically shook his head, "No! No, you don't- you're not-"
"Morse!"
Wide rain-filled eyes latched back onto him.
"Gull has her" He repeated, swallowing thickly as the first tear overflowed, "Gull took Abby".