Here we are then folks. Time to meet a few new 'characters'. Have I mentioned I like this chapter? Okay, I like this chapter. Hope you do too!
Skovko, Haha, you might be ahead of me! Next chapter you'll get to see what happens with the creepy lady, but for now, please have some Dean and Roman bonding time with my compliments.
SkittlezLvr79, The mystery lady is definitely going to throw up some questions. Okay, make that a lot of questions. Chapter five in particular is going to be huge!Would love to write a sequel, I had so much fun with this AU and there's totally more to explore, so who knows?!
Rebel8954, Well, if you liked Seth, I hope you like the other character you're going to meet in this chapter too. Although Seth is definitely the secret star player in this story. Who knew he suited being a dog so well?!
Wolfgirl2013, Many thanks!
xXBalorBabeXx, Seth wants to do his own thing, when he wants its and damn everyone else! He's definitely quite a character in this story!
XwwecoyoteX, Okay, I think you should be okay to drink tea during this chapter, but if you do find something funny, then I take no responsibility for subsequent tea scaldings/chokings! As for the woman? You'll find out more about the situation next week (because I'm cruel!)
Not-that-kinda-gurl, Hope this chapter was worth the wait. Also hope you like the rest of the 'gang' that makes up the rest Dean's PI agency (you'll notice 'gang' is in inverted commas!)
Zanderlover, Hello and welcome! Haha, no Mitch the plant (damn, I didn't think of him) but you're not far off! No love interest for Dean either in this one. I do write some Dean romance stories, but for the most part I'm all about the Roman/Dean (and sometimes Seth) best friend bromance!
HannonsPen, Hope you've got your popcorn all ready (sweet, not salted of course!) More Seth the dog is coming your way, plus someone else you might like, I hope!
Wrestlingfanforever, Your wish is my command!
Minnie1015, I'm taking it as a good thing that you want to read the installments closer together! Nothing better than a good suspense story! As for Dean and Roman? More getting-to-know-you-getting-to-know-all-about-you stuff here. I LOVE writing them becoming friends!
Mandy, She was definitely sketchy! Still, sketchy means mystery and mystery is always good. What's a story without a little bit of that?! Hope everything is okay, I'm sorry Denver didn't go well. You just keep doing you and keep your head up.
Phoenix lord of rebirth, Thank you! Yep, the lady is definitely hiding something, but you'll have to wait until next week to see where that goes (because you know me and making you wait!) Still at least there's a lots of Dean and Roman (and Seth and others) in this chapter!
Enjoy...
FOUR
When Roman steps back into the brownstone the next morning, he is greeted by the same scenes of devastation as before, since paperwork is still scattered over each surface and even better, at some point has been blown onto the floor, given that Ambrose has opened a window and let the fall wind and a god damn pigeon inside.
Roman blinks,
"Ambrose?"
Although he knows he's not in there, since he'd knocked for five minutes before letting himself in.
"If the door's locked it means 'm out," the scruffy private eye had offered him, during what had evidently been his orientation the day before, "But I keep a spare key up on top of the door frame, which, I mean like, you can totally use, since you work here too now an' everythin', y' know dude?"
Which is therefore precisely what Roman had done. Hence being stood in the middle of the office with the papers and the pigeon, which he frowns at,
"Hey, shoo."
Instead it flutters up on top of the inner door frame then tilts his feathered head and chirps offendedly at him.
"Coo."
"Fine," Roman grumbles, crossing the office and passing the rolled up sleeping bag on the couch, which kind of breaks his big home-owning heart just a little bit, "But if you doodie on something, then god help you brother. Because you and me will be having some words."
Stepping across a flashlight and yet more displaced papers, Roman lets himself in through the inner office door, which leads to the desks – two of them, one in each corner – and the cupboard where Dean keeps his hotplate and food.
"Ambrose?" he calls stepping over the threshold and then stopping himself dead.
There is a dog sat inside. Not Seth though, because this hound is not as poofy as Seth is. Or as small frankly, since the creature is huge. Like some hybrid horse. Or okay, a bull mastiff, but with pale amber eyes that glower up at him.
"What the he – ,"
As the dog makes a break for the door, Roman slams it and then winces at the thud as it bangs into the other side, which makes the pigeon take off in a panic and sends paperwork flying everywhere.
"Mornin' Reigns," Ambrose chirps, breezing into the main office behind him with Seth trotting smugly along at his heels. He's holding two styrofoam cups from Dunkin' Donuts and the remnants of a burrito that he's still munching on, in spite of the fact that there's a pigeon in his workplace and a howling gale billowing in from outside. He holds out a cup, "Here, bought you some coffee. Nothin' like, fancy though because I didn't know what you liked. But I mean, uh, it's hot, an' wet or whatever."
"Nothin' fancy sounds perfect," Roman grins in reply, since no one he has worked for since taking up temping has ever bought him a coffee like a regular human being. The last place he had been at hadn't even had a break room. Or it had, but it had only been for permanent staff and so therefore the fact that his new employer has thought about him is nearly enough to bring the big man to tears. Or at least make him forget about the pigeon for a second.
Right up until it dive bombs him.
Roman ducks,
"Uh, I think you might have a bird situation," he grunts as the thing flutters past his damn head and then lands super proudly on the back of the sofa.
Dean shrugs,
"Oh yeah, he shows up from time to time. Found him as a chick on the sidewalk about a year ago, so now I guess he kinda thinks I'm his mom or some crap."
Crossing the now bitterly cold outer office towards the hastily banged shut inner office door, the copper blonde tears off a bit of burrito and then leaves it on the sofa for the cooing feathered rat, before reaching the lair of the slobbering horse dog just as Roman puts a hand out in warning.
"Babe, wait – ,"
It's too late. The bull mastiff comes barrelling out at them like a beige colored wrecking ball studded with teeth, although instead of devouring the detective like a chew toy, it launches up at him at wags its enormous tail.
"Alright, alright," Dean huffs at it fondly, reaching down into his pocket and pulling out another very greasy looking bag. Inside is yet another beef filled burrito, which the mighty mastiff swallows in nearly one bite, before checking the floor for any leftover rice bits.
Dean grins proudly,
"He's pretty cool right? Found him last night. No collar or anythin', so I brought him up here to keep him outta the cold. M' thinkin' of callin' him Brock or like, Tiny."
"Brock," Roman offers flatly, watching the dog, since it seems to suit the damn thing better and since Killer hadn't been part of the choice. Dean blinks and then seems to understand the problem,
"Oh uh, I probably shoulda said I like dogs. Is it cool with you if we keep 'em or whatever? Because I mean if you got allergies then – ,"
He scratches his head and Roman blinks,
"Wait, are you saying that you would actually give your dogs' up?"
Dean shrugs,
"Well, I mean like, I don't want to or anythin'," crossing back past the sofa he scritches Seth's hair up and the tiny little puffball tries to bite off his hand. Because, on second thoughts maybe Seth should be Killer, "But I mean, we're like, partners now dude, so you know."
He shrugs again and then peels off the leather jacket he seems to live in and hangs it up on the back of the office door.
Roman frowns,
"Partners?"
"Yeah, I mean, sure dude. Because 'm not really one of those boss man types. An' besides, I do the snoopin' an' the surveillance or whatever, an' you keep the bills straight. That makes us a team. So if your lungs are gonna like, freakin' seize up or somethin', or if you hate dogs then – ,"
"They're fine," Roman lies. Or not lies exactly since he doesn't remotely hate them. It's just that he's never really worked with them before. Brock comes up and he rubs the beast's forehead and comes back with all of his fingers, which is probably a good sign, "Just need to remember not to tell my kid about this, or she'll want me to start bringing home lost pets."
Dean looks up with interest,
"You got a daughter? Because I noticed you were hitched," he gestures to the ring, "Cool. How old is she?"
"Five going on damn near fifty," Roman grunts at him, fighting down a smile as he shrugs off his own coat and then takes a sip of coffee, nothin' fancy as promised, which beats off the winter chill and slaps him straight in the face with a dose of simple flat white caffeine and a tiny hint of sugar, "God damn. I needed that."
Ambrose has moved into the innermost office and so Roman follows him then stands in the door, waiting for Dean to sit down at his own desk, which Roman guesses is the messier looking one.
It is.
Brock and Seth both pad in behind them, although luckily the pigeon stays put where it is, perched on the back of the sofa like a budgie, or parakeet, or more accurately a feathered monkey with wings. Dean swings his legs up over the tall mounds of paperwork,
"So Reigns, how long have you been in this type of gig? Bein' a," he pauses for a second, "Office manager."
"About a year now," Roman shrugs back, sliding himself into the desk chair opposite and then grunting as Seth climbs up onto his lap, where he spins in an elaborate sequence of circles before settling down.
Damn.
"What did you do before that?"
"Football," he frowns, peering down at the powder ball. Who, okay, does look pretty darn cute, "I played defensive tackle for the Bengals. Well, right up until I tore my ACL. Twice. After that I just couldn't make it back again."
Dean blinks at him,
"So, what? They like, freakin' abandoned you?" he seems completely outraged on Roman's behalf. Kind of like Roman's own beloved wife had been and still is quite frankly.
He waves a loose hand around,
"Look, I mean, I get it. It's business. They don't want people who ain't able to play and I can't play now, so it is what it is man."
"Still must suck though," Dean points out, looking around at the badly cluttered office and then scratching his neck guiltily, "Goin' from that to, like this."
Roman smiles and then holds up his coffee before pointing at Seth,
"Nah, turns out it's not all bad and besides, I got a wife and a kid to take care of, so I'll take what I can get and be damn grateful for it. You?"
Dean looks up with a shrug,
"Don't watch football."
Roman shakes his head,
"No. How did you get into this. Being a real life private detective and having your own business. Must be pretty cool?"
"Uh, yeah. I mean, I guess so," Dean shrugs back at him, doing the whole awkward scratching-his-head thing again, which only seems to happen when he's embarrassed, or possibly stressed, "But it's not as excitin' as on TV. I mean, mostly I just hang around outside hotel rooms looking for guys who are cheatin' on their wives, or like, tryin' 'a get dirt for shady lawyers an' that shit. It's never freakin' murders or helpin' the police out or shootouts or anythin' wild like that. Although I do kinda got this one job later this evenin'. I gotta go to an address an' like, watch for somethin'."
"Something like what?"
"Dunno," Dean shrugs back, "The lady that hired me last night wouldn't tell me. She just said it was something that needed to be done, an' that I would totally know what it was when I saw it."
He air quotes the last part and the bigger man frowns,
"Do you think it's a trap?"
Ambrose smirks,
"Why? Worried about me?"
"Sure," Roman nods at him, "I mean, you're the boss, so if you go and get yourself killed on some stakeout, then I have to go back to the agency for another job and I mean, I did mention my wife and my kid right?"
He's grinning because he's kidding, but Dean merely shrugs,
"Well, if you're worried you could always come with me."
"What?" Roman blinks, his wife's voice ringing in his ears.
"So you're not going to ask to go with him on stakeouts, or whatever it is he does?"
Back in the real world Dean shrugs again,
"Yeah, be like, my wingman or whatever, an' besides, it might be nice to have some company for once. I mean, unless you have to get back home to your family. Which is totally fine too."
He's doing the scratching thing again, which Roman might end up becoming weirdly kind of fond of. Provided that it isn't actually fleas. He sucks in a breath. His wife is going to kill him. But it's a brand new job, so how can he say no? Plus he'd meant what he said about the work there. So it pays to make sure that his new boss is safe. Or at least it pays to prove to his wife it's not dangerous.
He nods his head casually,
"Okay, I'm in."
"Really?" the scruffy private eye all but lights up, before realizing he probably sounds way too keen, at which point he clears his throat, "Okay, cool man."
"And call me uce by the way. It means brother in Samoan."
"Uce," Dean rolls the word around on his tongue and then nods his head once he's mastered the ooh part, "Can do dude. Oh, uh, I mean, can do uce. Although I do kinda like, got another question for ya."
"Shoot," Roman smiles, leaning back behind his desk and taking another long sip of his coffee as Seth starts to dream twitch.
"Did you call me babe?"
Okay, so Brock is now officially part of the squad (and Carl the pigeon...okay, this story might mostly be about animals!) Next week, we get to find out a bit more about what's going on with the mystery woman. Although it might throw up more questions than it answers...