AUTHOR: Macx and Lara Bee
DISCLAIMER: FAKE belongs to Sanami Matoh and whoever else claims them. We don't. We just play with them a little. No money made, honestly!
Authors Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note):
English is not our first language; it's German. This is the best we can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize g> The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are.....
ARCHIVE: yes
WARNINGS:
#1 This is a sequel to The Truth and Other Lies, which explains how and why and when Dee and Ryo became what they are now, and especially the relationship between Dee and Barclay!
#2 the story deals with the paranormal
#3 Berkely Rose was translated as Ross Barclay in the German version of Fake and we like the name a lot better, so we go with it. Sorry to you all, but you have to live with that ;)
TYPE: yaoi
RATING: R for FFNet specifically. The Original, uncut version is rated higher
PAIRING: Dee/Ryo
FEEDBACK: empty inbox seeks emails g>
Important: this story assumes that JJ knows what Ryo and Dee are. Lara and I wanted to write that story before publishing this one, but circumstances have it that the JJ story isn't even remotely close to being finished and we wanted to at least give you people Loyalty to read g>
What happens in the JJ story isn't important for Loyalty. You just have to know that JJ knows about Dee and Ryo. 'nuff said. On to the story ;)
It was late. Late enough to warrant going home, but too early in Ryo's opinion to already give up. He knew the evidence was somewhere down here, among the hundreds of boxes the officers at the scene had secured throughout the raid. Somewhere in here was the vital piece of information he needed to close a case, to place the suspect behind bars, to make the case airtight.
Sighing, he sat back and worked a kink out of his neck. A short glance at the wall clock told him he had been down here for five hours straight. His stomach reminded him that he had missed food altogether, and he briefly wondered where Dee was. His partner had been on another case, one that was apparently linked to his own, but he had been out of the precinct all day long, chasing witnesses, getting statements, and reevaluating a crime scene.
Maybe he should call it a night.
He was tired, he was seeing things that weren't there, and the evidence wasn't running away.
Stretching, McLane got up and walked out of the evidence room to one of the water coolers. His steps sounded hollow in the silent hallway. There was no one left in the precinct after shift, except the few who put in overtime and maybe Barclay. The commissioner had department matters to take care of and from their conversation lately, Ryo knew that pressure from upstairs was keeping his superior busy. Budget cuts were always hanging over the precinct and Barclay was fighting for every dollar. Currently, he was winning, thanks to their exceedingly good crime solving rate.
Ryo got himself a drink of water, then turned to walk back up the stairs to his office. It was on the fourth floor and there was no elevator, but it was one way to keep fit, he mused. Just quick look at his desk, then get his things and leave. That was the plan. Those plans were interrupted when suddenly someone stepped out of the shadows. He stopped, his hand flying to his gun.
"Harding?" he blurted, recognizing the man.
And not in a good way.
Ron Harding was a paranormal, a magic user, and an unstable one at that. He had used his powers for criminal activities in the past and Ryo had been hard pressed to cover up some of his crimes in the last year or so. That had been before he had known Barclay was an ally too and could help. Still, he had thought Harding was away for good.
He had been wrong.
"McLane," Harding said coldly.
He was heavy-set man in his forties, his eyes burning with the insanity that raged in his mind, and as always dressed in a jogging suit. The man seemed to have only them.
Ryo had an uneasy feeling as he watched the magic-user. Harding wasn't strong, but he was talented enough to be a threat. His main power was levitation and while he had no control over it, ducking low flying objects was hazardous to someone's health.
"You son of a bitch," Harding growled.
"Harding..."
"You made my life miserable, McLane."
"You made yourself miserable, Harding. You committed crimes..."
"And you were the good little ally and reported them! You found me and you handed me over to them!"
'Them' had been those of the paranormal community in New York who took care of the ones who endangered their hidden status.
"It was my job."
"You asshole ruined my life!"
Ryo could feel the magic crackle around the man. Something caught his attention and his eyes widened. Levitation, he reminded himself. Harding could levitate small objects. And currently he was levitating whatever wasn't big enough to elude his grasp. Most of it looked like screws and bolts... Ryo's eyes flew to the open workman's box that had been left in the corridor. There had been a leak and someone had been called to fix it. Now his tool box had turned into an arsenal of weapons.
Things happened like in a flash.
Harding grinned manically as he launched what he had at Ryo.
Ryo jumped aside, ducking, but he felt something burn along his thigh, leaving a deep groove.
Someone caught him around the waist, flinging them both back.
There was a cry of pain.
He was falling --
-- down the short flight of stairs he had climbed from the basement.
The air was driven out of his lungs.
Something pinned him down.
Then there was a brief moment of nothingness, of just the hectic panting, harsh breaths, trying to get air into his lungs. His body hurt, was bruised in too many places, and his thigh burned.
Ryo forced himself to open his eyes, his inner voice screaming at him to get moving because Harding was still somewhere, probably coming after him. As if whoever had caught him was reading his mind he was pulled up and pushed against the wall.
"Move!"
He knew the voice, but for now he could only obey the command. His legs seemed uncoordinated as he staggered along the corridor, someone pushing him. His left thigh hurt abominably and he knew he was bleeding. Blood was gluing his pants to his skin. Something hit the wall beside him and he heard a curse. Again the voice.
He knew it.
Barclay.
Barclay was down here with him.
They were staggering, running, stumbling through the maze of basement corridors, heading deeper into the underground that was the lower floor of the 27th precinct. Home to the criminalistics lab, the evidence rooms, heating, numerous storage rooms and the archive.
A door loomed up in front of him and suddenly he was in the evidence room, falling inside, colliding with the boxes. His knees painfully scraped along the floor.
"McLane!"
Harding's voice, screeching with insanity and fury. The man was running around the corridors, opening doors, searching... looking for him.
"Ryo?"
Not Harding. A voice he knew, a pair of lips next to his ear. He fought the confusion inside his mind, let adrenaline take over, let the police officer come to the forefront. Ryo's head came up and he blinked as he discovered two ice blue eyes looking at him out of a pale, drawn face, covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Do you have your gun?" Barclay demanded tersely.
"Yes..." he managed. "But he's a magic-user..."
"I noticed."
And Ryo noticed the tremor in the usually so even tenor. His eyes flickered over the tall man and widened as he discovered the stain in the abdominal area.
"You're hurt..."
Barclay shook his head, his face drawn even tighter. "Not too badly. We'll take care of this guy first. Grudge?" he demanded.
"Kinda. Ally work. I found he was behind a series of burglaries. I thought he had been taken care of."
The pale features settled. "Thought as much."
They heard doors banging open, Harding screaming for Ryo, and he was coming closer.
"Not much time. How good is he?" Barclay asked.
"He can levitate small things. Biggest I ever saw was a type writer, but not for long. He's a bit of a flake in that regard."
Ryo frowned as he looked at his superior. The man was growing more and more pale, was sweating, and the pain was quite visible in his eyes and the tightness in his features.
The door to the evidence room flew open and Barclay whirled around, standing suddenly between Ryo and their attacker. Harding looked like a mad man. His eyes were wild, his hair in disarray, and his lips curled back in a snarl.
"I want McLane!" he growled.
"You're under arrest, Harding," Barclay told him evenly, leveling his gun at him.
The man laughed. "Do you even know what I can do, you fool?"
Barclay cocked his head a little. "Annoy people?"
The magic-user hissed in anger and a folder launched toward Barclay, but he warded it off with one arm. Paper scattered everywhere. But Ryo saw that Barclay was unbalanced, stumbling, fighting to stay upright, and no match for Harding at all. As more paper rained down on him, he tried to duck away, but something flew at the blond and a scream told Ryo that it had hit him quite hard.
Barclay collapsed back against him, taking them both down. Ryo's instincts went into overdrive as he pulled his gun and fired at the crazed magic-user, but he only succeeded in making him look for cover. It was just a little breathing space, but it was enough to pull Barclay back behind some boxes.
"You're only prolonging the inevitable!" Harding yelled, voice high and unstable.
Dee! Ryo thought desperately. God, please pick this up. I know you can. I know I'm frightened enough to blast a hole into any shield you might have. Please...
He looked at the blond man at his side. Barclay was barely conscious, his eyes glassy, breathing hard. His face was bathed in sweat, his shirt clinging to his chest with the dampness. One of his hands was pressed against his side. The dark suit jacket looked wet and something red peeked out underneath. It was his dress shirt, stained with
"Let me have a look," Ryo whispered and carefully peeled Barclay's fingers away.
It was ugly. Ugly and large, bleeding heavily. Something had hit the commissioner in the left abdominal area, and whatever it was, it still stuck inside the bleeding flesh. A shot wound or worse. It was close to the still visible scar from the shrapnel that had injured Barclay not too long ago. Whatever Harding had launched at them upstairs, it had entered the man's body with the same effect a bullet would have had.
"Hang on," he pleaded.
"Have no... intention to... let... go," came the gasp.
Barclay groaned through clenched teeth, eyes screwed shut, as Ryo pushed away the soaked fabric of his shirt. He had to still the bleeding.
"I'm sorry, sir," he murmured as he pulled off his tie, bunched it up and pushed down hard on the wound.
Barclay screamed, muscles cording in his neck. One hand shot forward, clenching around Ryo's wrist like a vice, intent on crushing him.
"C'mon, McLane. Make it easy on yourself. Your friend might even live if you give up now. It won't hurt... much," Harding taunted.
"My words," a new voice growled.
Dee!
Ryo felt elation course through him. Dee was here! Thank god for the bond.
And then he felt the gathering of a much more familiar magic. Dee's magic. It was coursing through him like it was coursing through his lover and partner. He felt its cold fire, the control his lover had over it, and then it struck out.
There was a brief cry as Harding was suddenly on the receiving end of a shaman's abilities, then a hard thud of a body hitting the wall, then the floor.
"Dee!" Ryo yelled. "I need help over here! Barclay's hurt!"
tbc...