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.

Okay, so, 44 views and not a single review to Chapter 12, huh:-( I take it you guys didn't like that chapter... or what? >sighs>Well, I hope you like this better...
Seriously, even if - hell, especially if - you don't like something, please tell me why, huh? Thanks.

Chapter 13

Hanson made it halfway up the walkway to the Crisal home before the door flew open, several semi-intoxicated students stumbling out with Joanne a few steps behind them. She ran down toward him, literally flinging herself into his arms. "I wondered if you were even going to show. Everyone else has been here for hours!"

"I can see that," he muttered, stepping over one individual – who, interestingly enough, didn't seem the least bit drunk – lying across the walk. "Told you I had to help my folks with something." As she pressed herself against his side, he slipped an arm around her waist. "Besides, better late than never, right?"

"Much better." She stopped and twisted in his embrace, rising up on her toes to kiss him. He cringed inwardly at the hollers from various students – including Hoffs and Ioki – but didn't pull away. "You want anything?"

"Wouldn't mind a beer." Or ten. He caught Judy's eye and forced a smile as he allowed Joanne to lead him into the house. Inside, students were clustered randomly in every first-floor room, and there were various couples traipsing up and down the stairs, their expressions leaving little doubt as to their activities.

Joanne weaved through the line that snaked around the kitchen island, snatching a couple of bottles from the refrigerator, then grabbed a bottle opener from a hook by the wine cabinet. He let her take his hand again and they headed toward the back of the house. "You brought your bathing suit, right?"

He nodded toward his book bag. "Of course."

"Good." She released his hand and slid a glass door open. "Come on."

Tom followed her inside, almost bowled over by the smell of chlorine. There were a few kids in the pool, and something resembling a line by the diving board; more students than were actually in the water were lounging on chairs along one wall. Joanne led him along the wall and toward another door in the back. "My room is this way."

It was all he could do not to freeze up at her words, and as the young woman paused to open the door, Tom took the opportunity to look around for Judy or Ioki. He didn't see Hoffs, but Harry was lingering by the pool, near the shallow end. Hanson caught Ioki's eye right before Joanne practically yanked him through the door.

Joanne's room was smaller than Tom had expected, considering the rest of the house, but the furnishings were, if he was any judge, definitely on the expensive side.

The girl flopped down on the bed, then sat up and opened her own drink, before reaching out to take his. Once she'd given it back, he sat down beside her, drawing one leg up onto the bed. "So…"

"I like you, Tommy."

No kidding? "I like you, too." That was appropriately awkward-teenagerish. He tipped the beer bottle against his lips and tried to gauge just how much trouble he was in right about now. Probably, a lot.

"Good." She maneuvered herself onto her knees, then set her drink down. "I liked you the second I saw you at school."

"I… uh, thank you." He shrank back a little, tugging at his color, and downed the rest of his beer.

"I want you, Tommy," she whispered, creeping forward.

Whoo boy. "I, um, I'm flattered, Joanne, but we… there's kind of a problem."

She frowned at him, but didn't retreat. "What kind of problem?"

I've got a boyfriend at home? "I don't… I don't believe in sex outside of marriage." He forced a wry smile to his lips. "I'm no saint…" he raised his beer, "but that's kind of a big thing for me."

To his surprise, she did back off then. "Oh."

"I'm sorry; I didn't want to lead you on, but…"

"It's… okay." Her slightly shell-shocked expression faded and the flirtatious grin returned. "Doesn't mean I can't still try."

I knew it was too good to be true. "No, I guess not. Don't know if you want to waste the effort."

"Somehow, I don't think it'll be wasted." She slid off the bed and grabbed her beer, downing the remainder in one gulp. "I need another drink."

He drained his own bottle and rose. "Me too."

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Turning the television on, Booker stretched out on the couch, staring at the football game without actually seeing it. He eyed the beer he'd set on the coffee table, but didn't reach for it. If he drank that one, chances were he wouldn't stop drinking, and Tom would kick his ass on Sunday.

The problem was, he wasn't sure he cared at this point. He wasn't entirely sure there was anything to care about.

Hell, he wasn't sure he still had a job. Fuller would be within his rights to suspend him for not telling anybody – or at least require him to talk to the department shrink, which might be even worse.

Dennis scowled as one of the Redskins took a particularly bad hit, and watched the man be carried off the field, then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. As much as he knew he could never have asked Tom not to go to the party – and as much as he knew Hanson would have stayed if he had asked – part of him felt betrayed by the fact that his boyfriend wasn't around.

At the same time, he knew that even if Tom were here, he couldn't be sure he'd even want to be near him. Pushing him away earlier – that had been pure instinct, and he'd scared the hell out of himself, and Hanson, by reacting like that.

Although, maybe if Tom were here, the memories wouldn't be. But he wasn't, and they were, and every time he closed his eyes, he could see Schenck standing in front of him, feel his hands on his shoulders…

A sudden pounding at the door jerked him – thankfully – out of his memories. He hauled himself upright and stood slowly. "Coming."

He opened the door and stopped short, less than pleased to see the man standing in the hall. "Penhall."

"Can I, uh, can I come in?"

"Sure. Why not?" Booker made a grand gesture, motioning the man in, and closed the door behind him. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize. I… if I'd known—"

Dennis cut him off. "Know something, Doug? I'm glad you didn't know, because you proved exactly what you think of me as a cop."

"Booker, look, I've just made that mistake before, and I didn't want to do it again."

"Penhall, tell me one thing. If you'd been partnered with Tom and he'd been telling you Greene was guilty, would you have listened?" Doug took a second too long responding and Dennis nodded. "That's what I thought."

"You gotta understand, I know Hanson. I know his judgment, how he thinks."

"Yeah, and you've been working with me for a year."

"Not… not with you." Booker could see in Penhall's face that the excuse sounded lame even to him. "I just—"

"Don't trust me." Dennis shook his head. "Don't worry, Doug. I'm gonna tell Fuller on Tuesday not to assign us together anymore. If you can't trust me, one of us will just end up getting killed because of it, and while you may or may not care about that, I don't really want it on my conscience."

"Booker, that's not fair."

"There's a lot of things that aren't fair," Dennis shot back, but clamped his mouth shut before he could say anything more. "Get out, Penhall."

Doug didn't move. "I came. To apologize. And I'm going to. So you can talk over me, or you can let me say what I came to say, and I'll go." Out of a desire to see him leave, Booker kept quiet. "I was out of line. You were right, about me being afraid to screw up again, and I probably would have rather let the guy go than make the same mistake again. But I should have at least listened to you. And I shouldn't have pushed it like that today in Fuller's office."

If Penhall had expected much of anything in response, he was disappointed. Dennis folded his arms across his chest and said simply, "Accepted." Doug hung his head a little, but kept up his end of the bargain and left without so much as another word.

Booker watched him leave, not feeling an ounce of guilt – or, for that matter, the acceptance he'd just offered Penhall.

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"How's it going?"

Hanson glared at Harry from behind his beer. "Ten minutes. I was here ten minutes before she tried to get me into bed."

Ioki raised an eyebrow. "How'd you get out of it?"

"Told her I don't believe in sex before marriage." He felt his face flush as Harry snickered.

Of course, Hoffs chose that exact moment to approach. "What's so funny?"

"Hanson's suddenly become virtuous."

"Harry!"

Judy looked between them both. "How much have you two had?"

"You don't know how much I wish I was drunk right now, Jude. Or unconscious. Or—"

"You're really a poor sport, Hanson," Ioki said, grinning at him in a way that made Tom want to knock his teeth out.

Hoffs took the opportunity to wedge herself in between them and fixed her eyes on Hanson. "Are you all right?"

He eyed her for a moment, feeling a bit better for the concern in her eyes, and shook his head. "I don't know if I can do this." He raised the bottle. "This is my 'third' drink. I poured the last one down the sink in the bathroom. She's supposed to be on her fourth, but I don't think she's actually had much at all."

The concern on Judy's face was unmistakable. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I told her I won't sleep with her so I think she's trying to get me drunk. And if I have to deal with her much longer I might start actually drinking."

"You want me to call Fuller?"

Hanson frowned. "No; he'll just tell you to tell me to deal with it. Which I can, except that—"

His eyes went wide as Judy suddenly rose onto her toes, reaching up to pull his head down, and kissed him. A moment later her lips moved toward his ear and she whispered, "Just go along with me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry turn away to face the wall, then slip around a corner.

Hoffs tilted her head to the side, resting it on his shoulder, and he leaned down slightly, his face in the crook of her neck. "What's going on?"

She didn't answer, just pressed closer to him and snaked her arms around his neck. She kissed him again and, a moment later, slid one of her hands down his back to cup his ass. After a few seconds, she pulled back, raising her arm to rest around his waist. "C'mon."

Maintaining contact with him, Judy began to guide Tom toward the hall that Ioki had disappeared down. It wasn't until they reached the end and made it into a closed – and locked – bedroom that they finally separated. "What was that?" He walked toward the mirror, rubbing at the lipstick that had come off on his cheek.

"If you have to ask, you and Dennis are in serious need of some alone time."

Even as he turned to glare at her, Tom felt his face grow hot. "Not what I meant," he growled.

She stuck her tongue out at him, but then sobered. "There was a girl I recognized; Harry and I busted her boyfriend for dealing crack at Southside. I don't know what she's doing here, but if she sees us, she'll blow the whistle."

"Because this wasn't bad enough already." Tom sank down on the bed and rested his head in his hands. After a second or two, he took a deep breath and looked up. "What do we do? We just hang around and hope she doesn't see you two?"

"I'm gonna call Fuller." She sat down next to him and reached for the phone, setting it next to her on the bed. Lifting the receiver slowly, she held it to her ear, then gave him a thumbs-up before dialing the number.

"It's me; we've got a problem, Captain." Judy didn't give the Captain a chance to talk. "There's a girl here from Southside who can ID me and Harry, Trista Jackson." Hanson strained to hear Fuller's response, but gave up after a few moments and opted just to listen to Judy's side of the conversation. "And Hanson can't be left here alone. The girl's already trying to get him in the sack – she's trying to get him drunk."

Tom scowled at her and she waved him off. "No, he's okay – for now. But I wouldn't mind having some backup, just in case we need…" At that moment, Hanson heard her voice falter and looked up quickly. Her eyes went wide and her tone of voice changed instantly. No longer whispering, she went on, "Dad, you don't need to send Doug or Dennis; my friend Harry's looking out for me, just like he promised." Hoffs paused. "Dad, come on!" She went quiet again, then said, "Whatever" and slammed the phone down.

"Someone picked up an extension?"

Judy nodded, sighing and brushing her hair back from her face. "Yeah. I think I caught myself in time though."

Hanson looked down. "I didn't want Dennis to come."

"Someone's gotta be here in case Harry and I get made, Hanson, and you know he'll keep an eye on your ass."

"Yeah, but he doesn't need this right now."

"Maybe he does – distract him, y'know?" She shrugged. "And at least you'll be with him; maybe you can sneak away from Joanne and talk to him tonight or something."

"Maybe." He reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "I meant to thank you, before, for being okay about everything."

She shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Doug and Harry aren't."

"Doug and Harry can go…" she trailed off and patted his leg. "Hanson, you're happy. And Dennis is happy. And that's all I care about." She hopped off the bed and grabbed his hand. "C'mon. And let's hope your girlfriend doesn't think you're running around on her. Because if she does, she is not going to let you get away."

"Don't remind me." He paused. "Maybe I'll tell her I'm gay."

"You can tell her whatever you want, after this case is over. In fact, I'd kill to be there when you do." She winked at him and headed for the door. "Let's go wait for the guys."