Title: Smooth Addiction
Author: AriellaGiselle
Rating: R, for graphic death, substance abuse, language, and major angst.
Pairing: Darien/Semi-Borrowed Female Character: Annie
Distribution: My site, Fanfiction.net, IMFanfic, QSArchive, and NeonSilence. Anyone else, just ask.
Spoilers: I don't think there are any.
Summary: Inspired by the songs by Alien Ant Farm and K's Choice. An agent assigned to Darien and Bobby is murdered, and the death takes a major toll on Darien.
Status: WIP
Author's Notes: This is an AU storie. This will *not* end happily. There's my warning. It's violent and painful and depressing. This storie is extremely personal and is painful for me to write, for several reasons.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot and Annie Li. The Invisible Man belongs to Scifi and Stu Segall. The idea of "Annie" and "Smooth Criminal" belong to Alien Ant Farm and/or Michael Jackson, you choose. "Not an Addict" is the property of K's Choice.
****************************
"I never knew you felt that way, Darien," Annie smiled brightly.
"Of course! Mountain Dew and twinkies are a crucial part of every diet!" Fawkes exclaimed. She rolled into another laughing fit and leaned against the wall of the van.
"Well, I'll surely have to remember that," she said between laughs. She raised the green plastic bottle to her lips and took a long, slow drink. Darien stared, unable to take his eyes off of her. She was breath-taking, even when she had Mountain Dew running down her chin. He reached over to wipe the yellow soda from her face. The second hand-met-face, Darien knew he had fallen head over heels.
"Darien?" she whispered softly. "What's wrong?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing, just thought of something."
"Oh, no, should I hide?" she teased. He threw back his head in laughter and fell back, his tailbone coming into contact with the floor of the van with a loud thump. Annie tried rather unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter. She finally gave up and burst into beautiful full-throated laughter.
"What are you two laughing about back here?" Hobbes asked, sliding the side door of the van open.
"Nothing, except Darien just about broke something," Annie said, still giggling.
"What did he break now?" Bobby glared seriously at Darien.
"My tailbone, Hobbes," Fawkes replied, rubbing the sore spot at the base of his spine.
*****
Her laughter rang solemnly in his ears as he downed his latest glass of vodka. He was truly miserable with nothing but her ghost to keep him company.
Darien slung his hand over the side of the couch and picked up the phone. He dialed his partner's number slowly.
"Hobbes."
"Hey, Hobbesy."
"Fawkes, what do you need?"
"Nothing, I just can't take this anymore. Come sit with me?"
"Yeah, sure thing, partner. Want me to bring anything?"
"Nope, just hurry."
"I'm coming, Darien."
Darien tossed the phone in the general direction of the cradle. The screaming dial tone told him he'd missed.
A soft knock at the door took his focus away from the offending phone.
"It's open, man," Darien slurred, his vision blurring slightly.
"Hey, how you doing?" Bobby almost whispered.
"I can see her, hear her, feel her. Hobbes, she's everywhere. She's everything. I can't look in the mirror without seeing her face," he sobbed relentlessly.
"I know, man, I know. I see her, too. I remember the last conversation we had. She was so excited about our new assignment. Only she would've been excited about a trip to the slums' clinics. That was just her way, though, huh?" Bobby offered, taking a seat beside Darien, effectively keeping the younger man propped up.
"Yeah, that was her way," Fawkes repeated.
"Hey, get some sleep, man. Tomorrow, we'll get that case solved, but you can't do it on a hangover," Hobbes stood and pulled his partner up. It was like wrestling a bear, Hobbes decided.
Once Fawkes was settled into his bed, Bobby collapsed on the couch and let his mind wonder to the young female agent.
*****
"Don't tell me how to shoot my weapon, Agent Hobbes! I've been through just as much - if not more - training as you have!" she shouted vehemently.
"I have no doubt that you can handle it, but maybe you should aim more for the left, Agent Li," Bobby suggested. He knew he was right, but she apparently had to figure it out for herself.
"Whatever," she muttered. She aimed and fired, the shot going wide off the right of the target. She turned around and glared at him. "How did you know that?"
"Training, practice, and a keen sense of knowing I'm always right," he replied cockily.
"Really?"
"That and you've never fired that particular weapon before."
"Oh, well, that."
"If weapons aren't your thing, it's cool. Fawkes refuses to carry a gun at all."
"'Aren't my thing,' huh?" She looked him straight in the eye, pulled her piece, aimed at the target behind her, and fired five rounds. Hobbes held her gaze for a few seconds longer before turning to the button and bringing the target in. He stared in disbelief at the center of the target. Five bullet holes in the shape of a heart at the center mass. He looked at the paper and then up at her.
"Whoa. I'm impressed, miss thang," he beamed at her.
"Thanks, my grandfather taught me that," she said, beaming back at him. She closed her eyes and muttered a few words in Chinese before meeting Bobby's gaze again. She smiled sadly, "He died five years ago. I miss him."
Bobby nodded in his newfound respect for the petite woman.
*****
Darien woke in his bed with a splitting headache. After taking about four aspirin, he sauntered to the kitchen to make some coffee. At first, he walked right past the sleeping man on his couch. When he did notice, he did a double-take and relaxed. *Hobbes must've been really tired last night,* he decided. He continued on into the kitchen and turned on the water.
After the coffee was made, he thought about waking Hobbes. He picked the shower over waking his partner.
He shed his clothing and turned on the cold spray. He was feeling more than a little numb and thought that a cold shower might wake him up.
He turned around, his back to the water, and rolled his head back to let the water flow down his face, his hair, his shoulders, his back.
Darien didn't want to think of her, but for some reason, he couldn't think of anything else.
*****
Annie was sitting at her desk trying to concentrate on the latest paperwork. She sighed loudly and groaned at the thought of having to do it all again. She would seriously hurt the person who messed this up.
She stood up and made her was through her apartment toward the kitchen. Opening the door to the refridgerator, she gawked at how empty it was. She pulled out the half full bottle of merlot and shut the door. Finding the right glass in her cabinets, she poured some of the beautiful red liquid and took a slow drink, savoring the taste. She put the bottle back in the cooler and walked back to her desk.
Her head jerked up at the loud crash coming from the window in the living room. She looked around the room, not seeing anything out of place. She ran to her bedroom, searching frantically for her gun. *Damn my forgetfulness,* she thought.
Something hard connected with the back of her skull and the world went black. She never woke up.
*****
"What happened, Hobbes? What does the report say?" Fawkes asked impatiently.
"It says she was killed by blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Probably a baseball bat or even possibly, the butt of a gun," Bobby answered.
"Well, what about the cuts on her arms and legs?"
"They think that the cuts were inflicted by a small knife, probably from her own kitchen. Done in some sort of ritualistic pattern."
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"She was a sacrifice, or some sort of initiation."
Darien stopped pacing and dropped limply in the nearest chair. Tears brimmed on his eyelids. He brought a hand up to his face and wiped them away. "Do we have any leads?"
"Yeah, the police seem to think that some sort of Asian gang is behind the murder."
"Asian? Like as a message to her family?"
"Maybe, partner," Hobbes sighed. "Her family is involved with the U.S. government at its highest levels. Killing the favored daughter would send a pretty loud message to them."
"I hope you find this bastard," a voice said quietly from the doorway.
Both of the agents turned their lines of vision to the door. She was a vision. She looked like Annie in every way possible.
Darien swallowed and spoke first. "Can we help you, miss...?"
"Li. My name is Cora Li. Annie was my sister," she replied.
"I'm very sorry about Annie. We all liked her very much," Hobbes stood, offering his chair to the girl.
"Thank you. I have been sent on behalf of my family with a message to you, Agent Hobbes, Agent Fawkes. Annie was quite fond of both of you. I recieved a letter from her lawyer two days after her death. It seems as if she had already made out a will and defined her wishes in this matter. She says in this letter that she loves you both as the brothers we never had. She wants me to tell you what her wishes are," Cora paused to pull a sheet of paper out of her purse. "She doesn't want you to grieve; she wants you to celebrate. She loved her life and her work." She handed the paper to Darien. "Agent Fawkes, find the people responsible. My family will be very grateful."
Her eyes narrowed on the taller agent, and he locked his eyes on hers. A silent moment of understanding passed between them, one that Bobby could never have picked up on. It was meant for those who loved Annie as family. Bobby liked her as a good friend, but he wasn't family.
Cora stood and turned to Hobbes, "Thank you both for your time. Remember what I have said, friends." She turned and left the office.
*****
"Dearest Cora,
If you're reading this, then I'm not here anymore. In all likelihood, I've been killed in the line of duty. Who am I kidding? I don't think I'll die in the line of duty. I've probably died in my apartment, alone, in my bathrobe.
I have a few things I need you to do for me. Go to San Diego and find Agents Robert Hobbes and Darien Fawkes. They are my partners and the best two people you could ever hope to meet. They are the brothers we should've had, Cora. Tell them not to grieve; tell them to celebrate my life. I've lived all I'm supposed to, and I had more fun doing it than should be legal.
Let them talk to you. They're like two halves of the same brain most of the time.
Enclosed is a letter for each of them. Make sure they receive these. I need them to know a few things that I couldn't have said in life.
Take care of yourself, sister. I love you, and I know I'll see you again.
Love,
Annie"
*****
"Bobby,
Concentrate, and you'll hit your mark. That's what my grandfather told me once.
Bobby, I appreciate everything you've done to make me feel at home at the Agency. No one has made me feel more welcome than you.
Take care of Darien. He's gonna need it, especially if I'm really dead. And take care of yourself. Don't let them tell you that you're crazy. You're the sanest person I know. And that says a lot, Bobby.
Yours truly,
Agent Annie Li, CIA, F&G"
*****
"Darien,
Do you think they have Mountain Dew and Twinkies in heaven? If they do, I'll save you some.
Don't let anyone tell you that you're a slave to the Agency. They are your slaves. You control them with a measure of decency and conscience that Charlie never could.
I wish that we could've gotten to spend more time together. But I cherished the times we did have. Remember that bar on seventh? That was truly the funnest time I'd had since moving to San Diego.
Take care of Bobby. He's a good man, and he's not insane. That's a lie that he's chosen to believe in. We all have a bit of insanity boiling underneath our skins, but Bobby's is in his personality, so he's labeled as crazy. He's not, remember that, ok? And don't forget to take care of yourself while you're at it.
Your friend,
Agent Annie Li, CIA, F&G"
*****
"So they came into the outway
It was Sunday
What a black day
I could feel your salutation
Sounding heartbeats
Intimidations."
--"Smooth Criminal" by Alien Ant Farm and/or Michael Jackson
*****
Author: AriellaGiselle
Rating: R, for graphic death, substance abuse, language, and major angst.
Pairing: Darien/Semi-Borrowed Female Character: Annie
Distribution: My site, Fanfiction.net, IMFanfic, QSArchive, and NeonSilence. Anyone else, just ask.
Spoilers: I don't think there are any.
Summary: Inspired by the songs by Alien Ant Farm and K's Choice. An agent assigned to Darien and Bobby is murdered, and the death takes a major toll on Darien.
Status: WIP
Author's Notes: This is an AU storie. This will *not* end happily. There's my warning. It's violent and painful and depressing. This storie is extremely personal and is painful for me to write, for several reasons.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot and Annie Li. The Invisible Man belongs to Scifi and Stu Segall. The idea of "Annie" and "Smooth Criminal" belong to Alien Ant Farm and/or Michael Jackson, you choose. "Not an Addict" is the property of K's Choice.
****************************
"I never knew you felt that way, Darien," Annie smiled brightly.
"Of course! Mountain Dew and twinkies are a crucial part of every diet!" Fawkes exclaimed. She rolled into another laughing fit and leaned against the wall of the van.
"Well, I'll surely have to remember that," she said between laughs. She raised the green plastic bottle to her lips and took a long, slow drink. Darien stared, unable to take his eyes off of her. She was breath-taking, even when she had Mountain Dew running down her chin. He reached over to wipe the yellow soda from her face. The second hand-met-face, Darien knew he had fallen head over heels.
"Darien?" she whispered softly. "What's wrong?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing, just thought of something."
"Oh, no, should I hide?" she teased. He threw back his head in laughter and fell back, his tailbone coming into contact with the floor of the van with a loud thump. Annie tried rather unsuccessfully to stifle her laughter. She finally gave up and burst into beautiful full-throated laughter.
"What are you two laughing about back here?" Hobbes asked, sliding the side door of the van open.
"Nothing, except Darien just about broke something," Annie said, still giggling.
"What did he break now?" Bobby glared seriously at Darien.
"My tailbone, Hobbes," Fawkes replied, rubbing the sore spot at the base of his spine.
*****
Her laughter rang solemnly in his ears as he downed his latest glass of vodka. He was truly miserable with nothing but her ghost to keep him company.
Darien slung his hand over the side of the couch and picked up the phone. He dialed his partner's number slowly.
"Hobbes."
"Hey, Hobbesy."
"Fawkes, what do you need?"
"Nothing, I just can't take this anymore. Come sit with me?"
"Yeah, sure thing, partner. Want me to bring anything?"
"Nope, just hurry."
"I'm coming, Darien."
Darien tossed the phone in the general direction of the cradle. The screaming dial tone told him he'd missed.
A soft knock at the door took his focus away from the offending phone.
"It's open, man," Darien slurred, his vision blurring slightly.
"Hey, how you doing?" Bobby almost whispered.
"I can see her, hear her, feel her. Hobbes, she's everywhere. She's everything. I can't look in the mirror without seeing her face," he sobbed relentlessly.
"I know, man, I know. I see her, too. I remember the last conversation we had. She was so excited about our new assignment. Only she would've been excited about a trip to the slums' clinics. That was just her way, though, huh?" Bobby offered, taking a seat beside Darien, effectively keeping the younger man propped up.
"Yeah, that was her way," Fawkes repeated.
"Hey, get some sleep, man. Tomorrow, we'll get that case solved, but you can't do it on a hangover," Hobbes stood and pulled his partner up. It was like wrestling a bear, Hobbes decided.
Once Fawkes was settled into his bed, Bobby collapsed on the couch and let his mind wonder to the young female agent.
*****
"Don't tell me how to shoot my weapon, Agent Hobbes! I've been through just as much - if not more - training as you have!" she shouted vehemently.
"I have no doubt that you can handle it, but maybe you should aim more for the left, Agent Li," Bobby suggested. He knew he was right, but she apparently had to figure it out for herself.
"Whatever," she muttered. She aimed and fired, the shot going wide off the right of the target. She turned around and glared at him. "How did you know that?"
"Training, practice, and a keen sense of knowing I'm always right," he replied cockily.
"Really?"
"That and you've never fired that particular weapon before."
"Oh, well, that."
"If weapons aren't your thing, it's cool. Fawkes refuses to carry a gun at all."
"'Aren't my thing,' huh?" She looked him straight in the eye, pulled her piece, aimed at the target behind her, and fired five rounds. Hobbes held her gaze for a few seconds longer before turning to the button and bringing the target in. He stared in disbelief at the center of the target. Five bullet holes in the shape of a heart at the center mass. He looked at the paper and then up at her.
"Whoa. I'm impressed, miss thang," he beamed at her.
"Thanks, my grandfather taught me that," she said, beaming back at him. She closed her eyes and muttered a few words in Chinese before meeting Bobby's gaze again. She smiled sadly, "He died five years ago. I miss him."
Bobby nodded in his newfound respect for the petite woman.
*****
Darien woke in his bed with a splitting headache. After taking about four aspirin, he sauntered to the kitchen to make some coffee. At first, he walked right past the sleeping man on his couch. When he did notice, he did a double-take and relaxed. *Hobbes must've been really tired last night,* he decided. He continued on into the kitchen and turned on the water.
After the coffee was made, he thought about waking Hobbes. He picked the shower over waking his partner.
He shed his clothing and turned on the cold spray. He was feeling more than a little numb and thought that a cold shower might wake him up.
He turned around, his back to the water, and rolled his head back to let the water flow down his face, his hair, his shoulders, his back.
Darien didn't want to think of her, but for some reason, he couldn't think of anything else.
*****
Annie was sitting at her desk trying to concentrate on the latest paperwork. She sighed loudly and groaned at the thought of having to do it all again. She would seriously hurt the person who messed this up.
She stood up and made her was through her apartment toward the kitchen. Opening the door to the refridgerator, she gawked at how empty it was. She pulled out the half full bottle of merlot and shut the door. Finding the right glass in her cabinets, she poured some of the beautiful red liquid and took a slow drink, savoring the taste. She put the bottle back in the cooler and walked back to her desk.
Her head jerked up at the loud crash coming from the window in the living room. She looked around the room, not seeing anything out of place. She ran to her bedroom, searching frantically for her gun. *Damn my forgetfulness,* she thought.
Something hard connected with the back of her skull and the world went black. She never woke up.
*****
"What happened, Hobbes? What does the report say?" Fawkes asked impatiently.
"It says she was killed by blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Probably a baseball bat or even possibly, the butt of a gun," Bobby answered.
"Well, what about the cuts on her arms and legs?"
"They think that the cuts were inflicted by a small knife, probably from her own kitchen. Done in some sort of ritualistic pattern."
"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"
"She was a sacrifice, or some sort of initiation."
Darien stopped pacing and dropped limply in the nearest chair. Tears brimmed on his eyelids. He brought a hand up to his face and wiped them away. "Do we have any leads?"
"Yeah, the police seem to think that some sort of Asian gang is behind the murder."
"Asian? Like as a message to her family?"
"Maybe, partner," Hobbes sighed. "Her family is involved with the U.S. government at its highest levels. Killing the favored daughter would send a pretty loud message to them."
"I hope you find this bastard," a voice said quietly from the doorway.
Both of the agents turned their lines of vision to the door. She was a vision. She looked like Annie in every way possible.
Darien swallowed and spoke first. "Can we help you, miss...?"
"Li. My name is Cora Li. Annie was my sister," she replied.
"I'm very sorry about Annie. We all liked her very much," Hobbes stood, offering his chair to the girl.
"Thank you. I have been sent on behalf of my family with a message to you, Agent Hobbes, Agent Fawkes. Annie was quite fond of both of you. I recieved a letter from her lawyer two days after her death. It seems as if she had already made out a will and defined her wishes in this matter. She says in this letter that she loves you both as the brothers we never had. She wants me to tell you what her wishes are," Cora paused to pull a sheet of paper out of her purse. "She doesn't want you to grieve; she wants you to celebrate. She loved her life and her work." She handed the paper to Darien. "Agent Fawkes, find the people responsible. My family will be very grateful."
Her eyes narrowed on the taller agent, and he locked his eyes on hers. A silent moment of understanding passed between them, one that Bobby could never have picked up on. It was meant for those who loved Annie as family. Bobby liked her as a good friend, but he wasn't family.
Cora stood and turned to Hobbes, "Thank you both for your time. Remember what I have said, friends." She turned and left the office.
*****
"Dearest Cora,
If you're reading this, then I'm not here anymore. In all likelihood, I've been killed in the line of duty. Who am I kidding? I don't think I'll die in the line of duty. I've probably died in my apartment, alone, in my bathrobe.
I have a few things I need you to do for me. Go to San Diego and find Agents Robert Hobbes and Darien Fawkes. They are my partners and the best two people you could ever hope to meet. They are the brothers we should've had, Cora. Tell them not to grieve; tell them to celebrate my life. I've lived all I'm supposed to, and I had more fun doing it than should be legal.
Let them talk to you. They're like two halves of the same brain most of the time.
Enclosed is a letter for each of them. Make sure they receive these. I need them to know a few things that I couldn't have said in life.
Take care of yourself, sister. I love you, and I know I'll see you again.
Love,
Annie"
*****
"Bobby,
Concentrate, and you'll hit your mark. That's what my grandfather told me once.
Bobby, I appreciate everything you've done to make me feel at home at the Agency. No one has made me feel more welcome than you.
Take care of Darien. He's gonna need it, especially if I'm really dead. And take care of yourself. Don't let them tell you that you're crazy. You're the sanest person I know. And that says a lot, Bobby.
Yours truly,
Agent Annie Li, CIA, F&G"
*****
"Darien,
Do you think they have Mountain Dew and Twinkies in heaven? If they do, I'll save you some.
Don't let anyone tell you that you're a slave to the Agency. They are your slaves. You control them with a measure of decency and conscience that Charlie never could.
I wish that we could've gotten to spend more time together. But I cherished the times we did have. Remember that bar on seventh? That was truly the funnest time I'd had since moving to San Diego.
Take care of Bobby. He's a good man, and he's not insane. That's a lie that he's chosen to believe in. We all have a bit of insanity boiling underneath our skins, but Bobby's is in his personality, so he's labeled as crazy. He's not, remember that, ok? And don't forget to take care of yourself while you're at it.
Your friend,
Agent Annie Li, CIA, F&G"
*****
"So they came into the outway
It was Sunday
What a black day
I could feel your salutation
Sounding heartbeats
Intimidations."
--"Smooth Criminal" by Alien Ant Farm and/or Michael Jackson
*****