Warning: Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

Geheimnis - Thanks! I like writing Fuller, because I like his character; I like the combination of toughness and compassion he seems to have, and it strikes me that no matter how badly one of the JS team screws up, if they need help, he'll do everything he can to help them, and just generally be there if they need him. And you're right about Penhall - unfortunately, things are just going to get more strained in that department. Oh, and you missed a chapter :-P

Rosepetal - Who says you're wrong? -adjusts her halo- Nah, that's not the point of the fic, but, well, there will be some issues relating to that situation

Chapter 6

Tom rolled over, slapping at his alarm clock, then rolled back with the intent of putting his arm around Dennis and spending a few more minutes in his nice, warm bed. He opened his eyes when his arm hit an empty pillow, and he lifted his head just in time to be hit in the face with t-shirt. "It's my turn to play the screw-up, Tommy. You, on the other hand, get to glue yourself to a goodie-two-shoes. So get up."

"Don't call me that," Tom mumbled, throwing the shirt back at him and dragging a pillow over his head – only to have Dennis yank it away from him. Blinking against the light Booker had turned on, Hanson glared at his boyfriend for a minute before grabbing his collar and pulling him down for a kiss. "Now I'm up."

"I bet," Dennis muttered. "But that isn't what I meant."

"Jerk."

"Yes, but I'm a jerk who's showered, dressed, and made coffee."

"You need to stay over here more often," Tom replied, pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Feeling Dennis's eyes on him, he glanced over.

"After last night, I'll agree with that." He paused. "Go take a shower."

"Yes, mom." Dennis shook his head and left the bedroom, not seeing when Tom stuck his tongue out at his back.

He showered quickly and by the time he was dressed, Dennis was only finishing breakfast. "Couldn't have made bacon and eggs?" he grumbled, eyeing Booker's cereal bowl.

"You got coffee. Consider yourself lucky."

Hanson shot him a withering glance as he headed for the counter. Fiddling with the tie on the bread, he finally freed a couple of slices and dropped them into the toaster. Looking toward the coffeemaker and the mug sitting in front of it, he grabbed Dennis's instead. He managed half a sip before Booker noticed. "Get your own!" He let him take the mug back and returned to his toast.

He'd just managed to get the slices out of the toaster and on to a plate when Dennis stood up. "Fuller's picking me up. The principal knows Penhall and I are going to be in the school, so we have to meet with him first thing."

Hanson made a face. Sometimes it was nice to have a principal or superintendent know what was going on – made it that much easier to get into the school, and kept them from getting their heads bitten off every time they got sent to the principal's office. But not having them know meant there was nobody on your back about it – except the department, at least. "Have fun."

Dennis shrugged. "Guess the guy's got a son on the Force."

"Even better," Tom said dryly. He watched Booker pick up his gun and frowned. "Dennis…?" For all Booker sometimes seemed more like a cop than the rest of the Jump Street crew, he hated going into a school armed – even more than the rest. It was something Hanson had trouble reconciling from time to time.

His boyfriend tucked it into his holster. "I got a bad feeling is all."

"Be careful."

"Always am." Dennis gave him a quick kiss and then headed out. "Get a move on," he called back over his shoulder.

As the door closed behind him, Hanson looked at his watched. "Whoops." He tossed his mostly uneaten breakfast on the counter and grabbed his bookbag before running out the door.

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Dennis leaned back in his chair, twirling a pencil between his fingers as the Mr. Greene droned on in the front of the room. With a class as dull as his name, it was easy to see why so many kids were doing poorly. He had to admit, though, that the guy was good looking.

Still, Greene rubbed him the wrong way. Something about the way he looked at his male students. He ignored the girls for the most part, not apparently expecting much out of them, and not getting much in return. The first few questions the guy asked, mostly girls raised their hands, but he'd call on the one or two guys – or when he did call on a female student, he'd treat her as if she was wrong even when she wasn't. They were halfway through the period now, and the girls weren't bothering anymore.

"Can anyone tell me why the Supreme Court decided as it did in Brown v. Board of Education?"

Dennis grinned inwardly. Hoffs would kill to be here. She'd give the guy what-for ten ways til Tuesday. He slouched down as if hoping Greene wouldn't call on him, and his movement caught the man's eye, just as he knew it would.

"Mr. Stiers, how about you? Any ideas?"

"Uh…" He paused. "Um, due process?" The jerk had spent the first twenty minutes of class rambling on that topic – giving his students some information that Booker was almost positive was wrong, though he'd have to look to be sure. One of the girls next to him giggled, but Greene just nodded thoughtfully.

"Not exactly, but that's a very good guess."

A good guess my ass, you moron, he thought to himself as the guy turned to one of the kids who'd accused him of harassment. "Mr. Adler?"

"Um, because they determined that there could be no such thing as separate and equal, because the separation made the kids feel unequal?"

It was a decent enough answer, though not worthy of the beaming expression on Greene's face. Dennis almost choked when the guy literally clapped his hands. "Perfect."

Is this clown for real? Booker folded his arms across his chest and determined to block him out for the rest of the period.

Luckily, he didn't have long to wait. As the bell rang, he shot out of his chair, determined to be the first one out. Greene was starting to give him a headache.

His plan, however, failed miserably. The creep grabbed his arm as he walked by. "Mr. Stiers, a moment please?"

Dennis tried to look disaffected. Moving kinda fast, huh? "Yeah?"

"You just transferred in from Bayview, is that correct?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I don't believe they have a government class there, do they?"

"Not that I was in," he replied with a shrug, trying subtly to disengage himself from Greene. The man didn't seem to notice, but he did keep his grip.

"I could tell; you appear to be a bit behind."

Dennis glanced at the floor. "I'll catch up."

"I'm not so sure about that. I don't mean to offend you, Dennis, but my class moves rather quickly, and I'm afraid that unless you put some extra time in, you'll just fall further behind the rest of the students." He gave him a smile that made Booker's skin crawl.

"I'll be fine."

"Dennis," Greene stepped directly in front of him now that the room had emptied and rested his other hand on Dennis's shoulder, "I hate to see students fall behind; you seem to be a very bright young man."

Yeah, I'm sure you noticed a lot in the whole hour you've had me in your class. "I'll be fine," he repeated, a bit more forcefully.

Greene didn't seem to get the message, but he removed his hands regardless. "I just want to offer my assistance. If you find yourself behind the rest of the class, I'd be more than happy to provide some extra help."

I bet. "Yeah, sure. Can I… go now?" Booker pointed toward the door.

"Of course." The man stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dennis."

"Yeah." Booker shrugged and left, feeling as if Greene's eyes were boring holes in his back. Outside the classroom, he leaned against the wall, letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Staring at the floor, he scrubbed a hand over his face, then raised his head, locking eyes with Adler.

Kyle Adler was leaning against a locker, staring at him. "Hey," he said, taking a step forward.

The kid looked ready to bolt but managed to stay where he was. "Hey." Dennis waited for him to say something more, and finally he did. "He offer you extra help?"

"Yeah. Pretty quick to jump on the new kid, huh?"

"You have no idea," Kyle mumbled, and Booker raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, and Adler shifted uncomfortably. "If you need a study partner or something, I wouldn't mind helping."

Dennis shrugged. "I don't know. Greene doesn't seem that bad. A little… overzealous, maybe. But he's not so bad."

He saw the color drain from Adler's face and the kid's eyes widen before he averted them toward the ground. "Well, whatever." When he started to walk away Dennis grabbed his arm, but was completely unprepared for the boy's reaction. Kyle spun around, right arm raised. Booker sidestepped, narrowly managing to catch the kid's fist before it went into a locker.

"Whoa! What the hell?"

Adler flushed. "I… sorry… I just…" he pulled away. "Sorry."

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." At that second the bell rang, and Kyle took it as his cue. "I gotta get to class."

Dennis watched him practically run down the hall before he disappeared down another corridor. "That… was interesting."

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Judy watched Hanson sit down next to blonde, blue-eyed Joanne Crisal and frowned. Tom looked so ill-at-ease and he hadn't even spoken to the girl yet. She couldn't ignore the bad feeling in her stomach and wondered if it had anything to do with Booker.

Shaking her head, she returned her attention to her lunch, fighting with the milk carton on her tray. No way. She didn't know how long they'd been dating, but it was clear it had been a while, and to her knowledge Hanson hadn't ever let their relationship get in the way of doing his job. She doubted he'd start now.

"What's wrong with him?" Hoffs looked up at Ioki's harsh whisper. "If he's not careful he's going to blow it before it even starts."

"You noticed too, huh?" she asked. "I don't know. Something's wrong."

"No kidding," he muttered, setting his tray down. "You think…?"

"No."Judy spoke quickly, despite – ormaybe because of– the fact that she'd been entertaining the same thoughts only momentsearlier. "He wouldn't let his personal life interfere."

"Interfere in what?" Judy looked up to see Greg Marist, the guy who'd been dating Joanne's sister Leslie for the better part of the last year.

"Huh? Oh. She was talking about her cousin. His girlfriend was killed in a car accident – drunk driver – and his family is worried he's going to leave school."

"He go here?"

"No, he's a freshman at State," Judy replied, shooting a look at Harry to thank him for the save. It'd been a clever one, too – give them a chance to feel Marist out. "I'm Judy Douglas, by the way."

He managed a small smile. "Nice to meet you." He stood awkwardly for a second before asking if he could join them, and then was quiet again after he sat down.

In an effort to get him talking, Judy slapped herself in the forehead. "Oh, God, I didn't even think… are you okay? I mean, you just lost your girlfriend, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm… I'm okay. Thanks for asking." He looked away and she could see tears fill his eyes.

"I… I just made it worse, didn't I? I'm sorry." Judy reached out and covered his hand with hers. But he didn't look toward her and after a second she followed his gaze to where it rested on Tom and Joanne.

"Who's that?" Harry asked.

"That's Joanne. Her sister was my girlfriend."

"No, I know that. I mean, the guy with her."

"New kid, Tom something. Poor sap, getting in over his head already," he added bitterly, and Judy jerked her head around to meet Ioki's eyes.

He recovered half a second before she did. "What do you mean, 'in over his head'?"

"She—nothing. I gotta go."

As he stood, Hoffs shot another look at Ioki, not sure what she was hoping for, then jumped to her feet. "You didn't even eat your lunch!" He didn't turn, just made a beeline out of the cafeteria.

She sank back down to her chair and a minute later saw what she guessed was the reason Greg had beaten such a hasty retreat. Joanne and Hanson were headed in their direction.

"Judy? Judy Douglas?" It was all Hoffs could do not to make a face at the girl's sickly sweet voice. Maybe that was why Hanson looked ready to follow Marist's lead. "You're the new cheerleader, right? What position do you normally take?"

"There are positions in cheerleading?" Tom asked, and Judy glared at him. He knew how sick she was of this, and was just rubbing it in. Oh, boy would he get his.

From the looks of it, he already was. "Who're you?" she asked in annoyance.

"This is Tom Henderson. He's new." Joanne looped her arm through his and Hanson looked ready to chew it off to escape her. Things weren't looking too hot for their case. "So, what position?"

"I was flyer when I was in middle school, but I ended up as a base at my last school, because there weren't enough guys on the squad."

"We can probably use you as a flyer," Joanne said with a very broad, very fake smile. "One of my friends is the captain. We're both thirds."

"Cool." She was saved from having to say anything more by the blare of a fire alarm. "Oh, are you kidding?"

"Hey, don't knock it," Harry protested. "At least we get to be late for our next class."

"Silver lining and all that," Hanson muttered. Judy watched him take advantage of the heavy flow of students heading for the door to disengage himself from Joanne. He stepped off to the side, letting the crowd push him along, and Hoffs and Ioki followed suit.

"Having fun?" she asked him softly, her lips close to his ear.

"Oh, yeah." He flashed her his most sarcastic smile. "She's my dream girl, really."

"Oh, now, see, I wouldn't have guessed. Without the dark hair, the muscles – the bad attitude…" she replied teasingly.

"I'll take Dennis's attitude over hers any day," he retorted, but she didn't miss the look of relief that crossed his face. He'd obviously expected a lot of flak about dating Booker – and he would probably be getting it, at least where Penhall was concerned. And maybe Ioki, too, given the expression he was wearing at the moment. Her partner looked extremely uncomfortable with the direction that their conversation had taken, and for both his and Hanson's sakes, she changed the subject.

Keeping her voice low, she redirected things back toward their case. "Watch yourself, okay?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you see the guy who was sitting with Harry and me before you and the princess came over?"

Hanson nodded, stepping away from the crowd as they finally reached daylight. "Who is he?"

"The boyfriend," Ioki answered.

"And he does not seem to like his late girlfriend's sister. He was staring at you guys, and when Harry asked who you were, he called you a…"

"Poor sap," her partner supplied a little too willingly.

Snickering, Judy finished her story. "And he said you were getting in over your head already. Then he bolted when you guys came toward us."

"He say why?" Hanson's face was serious, the discomfiting expression he'd been wearing earlier gone.

"No. He said 'she' and might have said more but her coming over freaked him out, so he shut up and took off."

"Keep working on him, see if he'll talk when she's not around."

Judy didn't respond; something – she wasn't sure what – had pulled her attention away from their conversation. "You smell that?"

"Huh?" Harry looked at her like she'd grown a second head, but Hanson nodded.

"Smoke. This isn't a drill." Both their eyes scanned the building, then Hoffs grabbed his arm.

"Over there, Hanson." She pointed past him toward the gym, where several classes worth of students were gathered, oblivious to the potential danger. "Harry, go let a teacher know or something," she directed as she and Tom jogged toward the students. "Hanson, the roof!"