Chapter Three.
Claudette were keeping her arms crossed over her chest and her dark eyes were burning twin holes in the side of his head. She was obviously not happy, in the way people were 'not happy' about having their houses burned down or their pets run over by cars. He made a mental note to be careful around her.
He made the same note about Danny, although for a quite a different reason. She didn't look angry but instead sad and upset. And perhaps -- if he was reading her right -- a little bit guilty.
With a small sigh Vic pushed himself up and out off the couch where he'd been enjoying a small break. The rest of his team were sitting around the table, playing cards and had, before Claudette and Danny's arrival, been bickering quietly enough for him to actually be able to get some much needed and well deserved shut-eye. Glancing over at them he was pleased to see that the cards were now on the table and that they were all sitting there attentive and ready to do what he told them to.
He smiled slightly, feeling proud of his 'boys'.
"Let me see if I've got this straight," he drawled as he walked up to the two women. "Claudette was having lunch with Dutch-boy when Danny came in to have a private little chat with him. What you said upset him and now he's gone missing. That about sum it all up?"
"Yes."
Claudette's eyes hadn't grown any warmer while he talked and her answer had been acerbic, at best. It was obvious that she was worried about her partner. Not that he was very surprised by that. Cops were always protective of their partners.
What had taken him by surprise though was how much Danny seemed to care. She was fretting in a way that was really uncharacteristic for her, which, in a way, was odd enough. But that her concern was for Dutch? Last time he'd checked the guy had been nothing more than an annoying inconvenience in her life.
"So, Danny..." As soon as he got eye contact with her, he continued: "What did you tell Dutch-boy to make him run away like that?"
Without even looking he could tell that the boys were about to make several suggestions, all rude and very likely to push Claudette over the edge. While a stern look over his shoulder made them shut up, it didn't stop the lewd grins and he almost shuddered at the hard look Claudette shot them.
"He... uh..."
Danny looked around the room desperately, apparently having hoped that Vic wouldn't ask her about that.
"You know Dutch," Danny finally said with a small blush. "Always following me around and stuff. I told him it was making me uncomfortable. I guess I must have... hurt his feelings or something."
Behind him his boys stared to laugh like maniacs while Claudette's eyes lost some of the anger and instead took on a look of sadness. Vic took both the news and those reactions without blinking. What throw him was the way Danny was behaving. If he didn't know better he'd say she was lying...
But what about?
"So," Claudette finally said, her sharp voice enough to stop the boy's laughter. "Will you help us find him before the Captain finds out he's missing?"
"We'll find him for you," Vic promised without even thinking it over twice.
If for no other reason, he continued silently, than to find out just what it is that Danny's hiding.
***
I see a bad moon rising
I see trouble on the way
Vic looked around the smoky bar, very much doubting that he'd find the prissy Detective in such a 'questionable establishment'. He still skimmed through the crowd, quite willing to be proven wrong. Too fat; right in size but very wrong outfit; wrong gender; too short; too blonde; right outfit but much too black...
He shook his head, annoyed by the stupid mission that Danny and Claudette had sent him and his team on. Or well, technically, they had asked him and he'd accepted. But still, it wasn't as if he'd really had a choice. He owed both of them and even if he hadn't he wasn't about to complicate his life by pissing off two armed women on the same day.
Don't go round tonight
It's bound to take your life
There's a bad moon on the rise
Just about to give up and head back out on the street a motion in the darkest corner of the club caught his attention. Narrowing his eyes and -- very discreetly -- putting most of his weight on his toes to gain a little bit of height he tried to get a better look at the man. Caucasian male, brown hair, wearing an ugly suit. So far it sounded like a good description of Dutch. He'd had to get a bit closer before he could make a positive ID though.
Pushing forward non too-gently through the crowd he made his way to the table in the back where, he noticed as he came closer, an obviously very drunk and very shaky looking Dutch was sitting. A bottle of extremely cheap whiskey was standing next to him and Vic frowned darkly as he realized that it was half-empty.
"Drinking while on duty, Dutch?" he growled angrily, prepared to drag the man up by his lapels and shake some sense into him. (God knew he had enough experience doing that with his own men.)
But then Dutch looked up from his glass and the look in and the state of Dutch's eyes stopped him. It was embarrassingly obvious that the younger man had been crying -- either that or he was really allergic to cheap booze -- and there was an emptiness in the brown eyes that stirred Vic's concern.
He'd never been much for all that crap about the eyes being the windows of the soul but he'd still always acknowledged that there was something in the eyes of people who'd just experienced something really, really bad. You could see that there was something missing in that person, either just temporary misplaced or, in some cases, permanently ripped out and destroyed.
Dutch's eyes looked like that. Empty.
Vic sighed heavily as he dragged a hand over the smooth skin of his head. He absentmindedly made a note that he needed a haircut as he tried to come up with a plan for how to handle the situation. Dutch just looked at him blankly, mouth hanging half-open and dull eyes that Vic was unwilling to meet again. It was but too obvious that the drunk man wasn't going to be much help in coming up with a solution.
"Stay," he finally ordered his colleague in his best 'don't mess with me' voice.
It was completely wasted though because Dutch just continued to look at him with that stupid, 'no comprende' look on his face and Vic found himself fighting the urge to just smack the man. Instead he forced himself to squat down so that he came face to face with Dutch -- making a face as he got a sniff of the other man's breath -- and then continued by speaking in the slow, patient voice he usually spared for times when he had to explain things to his son.
"You need to stay here for a little while, okay, Dutch? I have to make a phone call and I have to do it outside because it's too loud in here. Do you understand?"
Dutch made a sound that might have been a garbled 'yes' but could just as well have been a comment on the waitress' drool-worthy physique. With a small growl the older man decided that it had better had been a 'yes' because if he came back and Dutch were missing he was really going to lose his temper.
And, as he was so fond of pointing out to the perps, that was never a good thing.
***
"C'mon, Vic! Why can't you just put him in a cab and send him home?"
The voice on the other end of the phone was distinctly whiny. Not at all unlike that of his children when they were over-tired or wanted something badly enough to risk 'time out'. Vic scowled at his cell phone, thinking that while he'd never touch his own children the person on the other end of the phone, non other than, of course, his partner Shane, wasn't totally undeserving of a spanking.
The mental picture cheered him up a bit and made it possible for him to keep at least most of his irritation out of his voice.
"Because he's still on duty," he explained. "We put him in a cab and something happens the Captain and the rest of big wigs are going to find out 'bout him going all AWOL and getting himself pissed when he should have been out there catching bad guys like the rest of us. He could get fired."
"And we care because...?"
Vic wasn't sure if his partner had meant for him to hear that last part but decided to act as if it had been spoken out loud instead of just muttered quietly under Shane's breath.
"Because no matter whether we like him or not, he's one of us. And besides... both Claudette and Danny have put themselves on the line covering for his ass."
"Maaan," Shane continued to complain, "what if he pukes in my car?"
"Then we'll ask him all friendly like to clean it up tomorrow morning," Vic snapped, finally loosing his patience. "Just get your ass -- and your car -- over here. We'll be waiting inside where no one can see us so when you get here just stick your ugly face through the door and we'll be right out. Okay?"
"Yes, sir."
Snapping his cell phone shut Vic went back into the bar, both happy and relieved that Dutch was still sitting at the table in the back. Less happy though when he saw the man raise yet another glass to his lips. Cursing wildly he closed the distance between them and yanked the glass from Dutch's fingers.
"No. More. Drinking." He barked. Then added, almost as an afterthought. "Asshole."
And with that he sat down next to the man, angrily staring out over the crowd as he and Dutch silently waited for Shane to show up.
