Author's Notes: First of all, shout-outs to skyefire and ShadowHawk for giving me those great reviews (and how nice of skyefire to add this to her "Favourite Stories" list! kisses her cheek) Thanks for making a newcomer feel welcome. Yes, I think it's high-time that there was a section dedicated to C.O.P.S. fanfiction, too. I was actually quite surprised that there were no fics of this cartoonin the "Miscellaneous Cartoons" sub-category. Yet, I was also relieved, because I would've created this sub-category for nothing, and forced to kick my own butt... LOL!
Also, you'll know that I had to revise the summary. My original plan was to have Leslie accompany his copbrother, Randall to the briefing meeting at C.O.P.S. headquarters mentioned in this chapter. At the last minute, I decided that Leslie wasn't really needed there, and that Randall and Benjamin could handle this on their own.Did I make the right decision? Read, review and tell me.
Disclaimer: I told you this twice before, I don't own C.O.P.S., the animatedTV series. (that would be the talented folks at DIC Animation Studios) Actually, Leslie Janes and all members of his family are mine. Furthermore, I'd like to creditDIC studios for inspiring me to write this piece of fanfiction, because I was a fan of this series once upon a time, but I admittedly stopped for a while because I got tired of the re-runs. Now, there's a FanSite dedicated to show somewhere on the Web that got me back into it recently. Anyway, onwith the story.
Chapter 3
I sat in Randall's living room, staring at Benjamin's books for Bulletproof and the others. I was pondering about whether or not they'd be able to read it in time for the signing. I thought about their main enemies, Big Boss and his gang of crooks. I wondered what they were up to this week. If they were planning anything nefarious for Empire City, then the C.O.P.S. would be lucky to get through the first fifty pages.
I opened my copy to the very last page. It was three hundred ten pages long. As of tomorrow, the signing would be three days away. No problem, I'm a pretty quick reader when it comes to novels. I could do a hundred pages a day without any distractions. But if the crime wave in Empire City is the way it is with that Big Boss around, then Doug, Randall and the others wouldn't make time to read it. That could disappoint Benjamin.
I looked up at Randall. He was sitting at the dining table, staring at the autograph on his copy. "Problem, Randall?" I asked.
"I don't know about this book," he told me. "I mean, what if I start reading, and think it's just a piece of junk? What if we give Bulletproof, Longarm and the others their copies, they read it, and they hate it?"
"Oh, come on!" I laughed. "Then again, this could be a really good book."
He opened it to the first page and studied the text. "All right, I'll give this a chance."
I grinned, and had a thought. "Hey, do you know what's going on with Big Boss and his little gang? If they've got anything big in tow…"
"Actually, Leslie, we learned that cretin's been nominated for World Crime Lord of the Year, and they've all flown to England late this afternoon for a crime convention and awards ceremony," he explained. "Can you believe he boasted about this? So, unless we get complaints of street gang activity, prostitution or drug dealing, it should be a light week, crime-wise."
"They'll be back in America, imprisoned on the day of the signing, anyway," I replied. "Doesn't that always happen? Meanwhile, it'll give everyone time to read the book. We all owe it to Benjamin, right?" I took my copy and went to the guest bedroom.
I settled on the bed, opened my book, and began reading. The first paragraphs of the first chapter already had me with what I thought was a provocative description of the hero, Johnny Willis.
The men and women of Miami's police force saw Johnny Willis as the toughest, most dedicated cop in the city, whom they said prided himself in his work. But all the non-police women who knew him saw him as only the sexiest man in American law enforcement. Standing six foot eight, and weighing four hundred ninety-five pounds, he spent most of his off-duty time bodybuilding and weight-training, which he'd been doing faithfully since he was five years old. His biceps were so big, he could rip the sleeves of the standard police uniform when he flexed. He had done that to three uniforms when he was first recruited. This is why he was placed in the plainclothes unit, and made to wear sleeveless muscle tops. Johnny didn't mind this, because it allowed him to choose tops with low necklines, so he could show off as much of his chest as possible.
But it wasn't just his chest that drew all the beautiful and sexy Miami women to him, for when he bared it in public, they would also touch his arms, his abdominals and thighs that felt like marble, his "outie" belly button that he got from all the working out he did. His shoulders and back had the strength of a team of oxen. His rear was chiseled, and his legs were just as muscular as his arms, but Johnny always kept them in a pair of blue jeans. His face was just as beautiful if not more so. It was a big, broad oval shape, with a wide chin that only enhanced its broadness. He had a large mouth and big teeth that helped show off a sexy smile, and put fear into anyone he gritted them to. His eyes were as blue as the bottoms of swimming pools, and his light brown hair was in the style of a military crew-cut. He kept both of them covered with dark shades and a trucker's cap, to make him look tougher when he was confronting suspects. Because of this look and attitude, he was nicknamed "the Junkyard Dog" by all who knew him.
Wow, so much graphic details. I couldn't tell if this was a police novel, or a sexed-up version of Gone With the Wind. I've always known Mirage to be a straight-laced, no-nonsense type of policewoman, but this would arouse even her into a romantic fantasy. I read over every description of Johnny's body, from the muscular arms to the beefed-up chest, from the ox-like back and shoulders to the military hairstyle. I started thinking about Mace. I'd seen him wearing nothing but a pair of shorts before, and with the exception of the blue eyes and crew-cut, Johnny and Mace's physical attributes were exactly alike. (I think Mace has brown eyes, and I know he wears his hair a bit longer than Johnny.) I wondered if Mace would be able to see himself in Johnny "the Junkyard Dog" Willis.
I shook my head, clearing it of these thoughts. I decided to ask the C.O.P.S. about it when they had a chance to read it. I kept reading.
Normally a happy and confident man, Johnny was feeling neither of this as he lay in bed one rainy April night in 2003. He had gotten home from working the day shift that evening when he saw his beautiful, yet fragile wife, Angela, sobbing on the arm of their loveseat. In one of the bedrooms upstairs, he heard their two sons, nine-year-old Shawn and six-year-old Hunter, crying louder than their mother. Remembering Angela's longtime job as a general helper at the restaurant pub they'd first met in, and the diagnosis tests she had been talking about the past week, Johnny quickly rushed over to her and fearfully asked, "Angela, my love, what did the doctor say?"
She looked at him with her tear-stained blue eyes, blue as a field of violets, as he stroked her dirty blonde hair, and whispered, "Lung cancer, Johnny. It's so severe. The doctor said I won't make it to the next Fourth of July. I only have two months."
It was as if Johnny witnessed his whole family being shot down by a whole street gang. He gripped his wife's hand tighter, gritting his teeth to show his bravery. He prayed that this was only a dream, but Angela's trembling, her fear of death completely obvious, proved to him she was indeed telling the truth. He was hearing the loud wailing of his younger son, and him screaming, "Mommy's going to die! Mommy's going to die!" Johnny abandoned Angela for only a few moments to find the bedroom their sons were in.
He found both Shawn and Hunter sitting on the queen-sized bed in the room he and Angela shared. He didn't hesitate as he wrapped his arms around his boys, enveloping them in his muscle, allowing them to use his pectorals as comfort pillows.
How sad and tragic this was. This is why I'm glad smoking was banned in all public places in Empire City. But did Benjamin have to make this scene so dramatic? Doug and his wife have a six-year-old son together. If this had happened to Terri, I doubt she'd be this afraid and upset. I also doubt my little nephew would be crying as much as Shawn and Hunter. Even if this had happened to Longarm's wife, I'd think that whole family would be a little braver than this.
The whole first chapter focused on Angela's lingering death. It went on for fifteen more pages. To the reader who expects lots of gunplay and car chases, and angry tirades and physical fights between cop and suspect in police novels, all this would be horribly boring. But Benjamin had told me that Johnny Willis was a very dedicated husband and father, so I read through it.
It got really touching towards the chapter's end. Call me a total sap, but I believe Benjamin is really delivering on his promise for his protagonist, and the love and respect he has for his woman. And yet, as I read the scene where Angela was dying in the hospital, I never expected to see this:
Slowly, she took his hand and said softly, "Johnny, I have told my family this, and now I'm telling you – I want you to find love again after I'm gone."
He snatched his hand away and covered his mouth. Just how soon after Angela died was he expected to remarry? Was this even right, his own wife telling him to love another?
"Angela, I love you," he whispered. He was tearful, with an unmistakable look of despair. "I've loved you from the first time I saw you. Do you remember my twenty-first birthday, when you gave me my very first beer? I told you of that occasion, and you gave me that smile that told me you'd never forget that date, and you've remembered it for the past fourteen years. That same smile you gave me on our wedding day, and when the boys were born, and when I saw you as I came through our front door coming home from work. I will never see that smile again, Angela. Never ever." Water began to form from his eyes like Niagara Falls. "And here, you're telling me to dishonor your memory?"
"Johnny, I want to look down from heaven and see you happy." Though weak, she still had the strength to wipe his tears away. "I want our sons to have a mother. You not only have the body to attract another woman, but you also have the heart. If you never loved me, you could have had any other woman you wanted. I know that."
I swear I could've felt my heart flittering around like a butterfly in my chest. This had to be absolutely the sweetest request ever given to a soon-to-be widower. The end of the chapter was on the very next page, I noted, so I finished it. Tragically, Angela died the next morning, and Johnny was crying upon her body, which was covered by her bed sheets.
I thought about Doug. He was always the tough one in the family, hence the code name, "Roughneck." No way would he deal with any of this sappiness. I wondered how he would react when he sees Benjamin again. He'd probably call him a wuss. I sure hope not; all that sentiment has made me want to keep reading.
I put the book aside and went upstairs to see Randall. He was talking on the phone to Bulletproof, something about a special briefing meeting tomorrow morning. When he got off, I said, "Well, that's a first. One of Bulletproof Vess' men, calling a briefing meeting. Let me guess, it's about Ben's new book."
Randall nodded. "And so far, so good," he replied. "Although, I don't know about Angela's death scene, and what she told Johnny to do. I know of no wife who would say something like that to her husband as she's dying, at least not in real life. However, I think Bulletproof and the others would be interested in it."
"What time tomorrow morning is it for?" I asked.
"I called it for nine o'clock."
"Do you want Benjamin at the headquarters as a special guest?"
Randall nodded. "I'll give him a call." He picked up the phone again and dialed the Manifesta. I went back to my room, changed into my sleep clothes and got into bed. I checked the alarm clock. It was just past ten-thirty. I was guessing Randall wanted me up pretty early, so I set it for seven in the morning.
I picked up my book and read all of the second chapter. All it had was the bereavement and Angela's funeral, and Johnny's grieving process. I was picturing Doug, ol' Roughneck, when he saw Benjamin at the book signing. "Benjamin, this is the wimpiest police novel I've ever read! You're much too feminine to be my cousin now!" I had read about thirty-three pages when I finished this chapter. It had to be past eleven already, so I immediately put the book away and fell asleep.
"Are you sure you don't want me at the C.O.P.S. headquarters with Benjamin there?" I asked. It was a little past eight the next morning, and Randall and I were finishing breakfast. He had told me about the meeting, that Benjamin had agreed to come, and that I was going back to Doug's house instead.
"Les, as much as we'd love to have you," he replied, "this really has nothing to do with you. Basically, Ben and I will be explaining the details of his book, and having Bulletproof pass out the rest of the copies. But Doug will be showing up for another night shift tonight, I believe, so I think you'll be going with him."
"That'd be great!" I hardly ever get to talk to Bulletproof and the others in person when I'm in Empire City filming my movies, maybe about thirty minutes during lunch break. It'd be nice to spend a few hours with them at the headquarters. Besides, maybe tonight, I can ask some of them for their thoughts on the book. I sensed some of them would have actually started it by then.
Whenwe arrived, we saw Doug's police car and Terri's car in the driveway. But when I walked inside and announced my arrival, I saw Terri in her nightgown. She looked tired.
"Rough shift at the hospital?" I guessed.
"It's stuff like this that makes me glad Bulletproof doesn't assign double shifts to any of his staff," she answered groggily. "Damn, all the work can kill your back and feet." She leaned back a little, making that disgusting cricking noise. "Doug went to bed three hours ago, and I'm off to bed with him. Try not to be loud with the TV or stereo, okay?" She walked away, not even noticing my copy of Benjamin's novel.
Try not to be too loud with the TV or stereo. I went into the family room with no intention of turning on either one. As I relaxed on the sofa, I thought of Zach, Doug and Terri's son, who was at camp this whole summer. It was such a blessing. I love him, but I wanted to get some serious reading done, and no way could I do that if he was asking me to play with him all the time.
I opened my book to Chapter Three. If Johnny Willis' physical descriptions, and the loss of his wife were any indications, I'd guess this is where the book started to get a little raunchy. After all, how much sex can I expect from "the sexiest man in American law enforcement" who just became single again? Plenty, that's how much!
I wasn't all that surprised to see some sexual suggestions two pages into the chapter. I had just finished the scene where Johnny comes back to work after his grief period and gets his first assignment in two weeks. Those three sisters Benjamin had peering from the bushes outside the police station were evidence enough.
Meanwhile, outside the station, the three Leahy sisters had been peering from the bushes, going undetected by any other officers, waiting for Johnny to come out. The two younger ladies, twins Diane and Dawnelle, were constantly enhancing their beauty by combing their strawberry blonde hair and adjusting their make-up, and making their green eyes even greener by switching their color contacts. It seemed that they'd wanted him from the first time they saw him, and had turned down every other man the whole time he had been married to Angela, only for him. Now that she was gone, they believed, Johnny was open and ready to give them a glance.
Their older sister, Carolyn, was glaring at them from behind, all the while looking out for other officers. "For heaven's sake, ladies," she mused, "don't you have any regard for widowed people like Deputy Willis? I mean, the man's wife has just died. He could still be in mourning! Why take advantage of it?"
"Do you really think we give a shit?" Diane spat. "The point is, Johnny is single again and gorgeous as ever. If the sex is great, it just might lead to marriage. Think about it."
As disgusting and disgraceful I thought this was, I thought back to what Uncle Matt had taught me about love and sex. I knew that he'd been in love with many beautiful women since Aunt Denise died. I don't remember all that much about his love life, but I'd never forget the lesson he always taught me: "There's no point in having sex if you are not in love with the partner you want to do it with." Perhaps he had taught this to Benjamin, too, and it had been worked into this novel.
Did Benjamin center Johnny "the Junkyard Dog" Willis around Uncle Matt? I knew Uncle Matt had been a middleweight bodybuilder, boxer and wrestler throughout his law enforcement career. But he was also active in the athletics department at a local youth center, "coaching all sorts of young kids into healthy, strong bodies," he'd bragged to Dad years earlier. But I don't think he was nearly as muscular as Mace, and I still believed Johnny Willis was Mace's double. I couldn't help but to think that.
I decided to forget it and keep reading. I had gotten to the end of the page when those twins had emerged from the bushes, tugging at his clothes and hitting on him. Skanky? Maybe, but otherwise, I thought these were good, innocent girls. Thank God their sister had the sense to pull them away to before any of his colleagues saw them. Hitting on a cop while on duty can get you arrested, prostitute or not.
All morning, the phone rang three times. One was from an insurance company, and I took a message for Doug and Terri. Another was from Molly, asking if I had heard from our movie director yet. I said no, maybe I should call Jill after lunch and ask for an update. A third was a wrong number. By the time I decided to make myself lunch, I had read the third, fourth and fifth chapters, witnessed many police confrontations and arrests, two romances and one dumping, and a couple of very detailed love scenes.
After lunch, and getting no word about the director's mother, (I was inwardly blessed; I wanted him to stay away until after Benjamin's big day), I resumed my reading. I know I should've been using this time to look over my script, but I just couldn't put this book down. The "Junkyard Dog's" well-active sex life was hot enough to have me reading every word about it – and this wasn't even a romance novel. Maybe I should call Jill back, get the director's cell number, and give him a call, I thought. I wanted him to read this book, too. I was already seeing movie potential for this.
Yet, deep down, I wondered what the C.O.P.S. would think of all this sexual innuendo. Any dedicated police officer would either burn this book, or sell it to some horny sex freak. I didn't know about the others, but I could just see Bulletproof and Longarm blasting this in the media as, "a dishonoring embarrassment to the real men and women on the force nationwide." If Dad and Grandpa Janes were still alive and had read this – well, to paraphrase The Catcher in the Rye, they'd have two heart attacks apiece.
I read until three-thirty, when Doug woke up. He turned on the TV to a sports channel to watch some baseball highlights. I watched with him. After all, I'd read close to a hundred pages so far. I deserved a break.
At the commercial, I asked Doug, "Have you started on Ben's book yet?"
"I've started reading it at the station," he answered. He turned to me and asked, "Have you or Randall told Ben anything about Bulletproof and the other C.O.P.S. some time ago when he was planning this? Particularly Mace, because I swear Ben modeled this Johnny guy after him."
"Me too, but I haven't told Ben anything about your work," I replied. "I don't think he'd remembered anyone else besides you, Randall and Bulletproof. At the hotel yesterday, when he was autographing all those books, I was reciting all those other names for him, and he never said a word about it." I paused when I heard my favorite soda commercial come on. Afterwards, I asked, "How far have you gotten?"
"I started on the second chapter already. I hope that if Terri goes before me, she has that same dying wish Angela had. I thought that was so considerate."
I was surprised he didn't say anything on the sappy romance in general. But I wasn't surprised to see him not reading at that moment. He obviously didn't have enough energy. I wouldn't either if I had just woken up. At a little past four, we went in the kitchen to make dinner. Maybe he'd read some more while dinner was cooking.
I know, I know, no bigshocking blow-up yet, like I promised last chapter. But that would've required making the chapter longer than it already is. However, use these aforementioned excerpts of Benjamin Janes' book, and Leslie's thoughts as foreshadowing of what's to come NEXT CHAPTER. And this decision has resulted in this story having one more chapter than originally planned. Again, please read and review, and there's definitely more to come.