Crimes & Donuts Chapters
Jelly-Filled (part 2)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this crazy attempt at a cop fic.
Warning: swearing, sexual innuendoes, violence (silly and run for your lives types), pairings of all different types/genders, and because this is an AU…some OOCness.
This ended up being a little longer, just so I could wrap up the Jelly-Filled case. Otherwise, this would've been normal sized and the third chapter would've been itty-bitty.
- LUDWIG'S POV -
We managed to arrive to the park without incident. Largely in part to the fact that I was driving instead of Feliciano. He's a good cop with excellent instincts, but I still can't figure out to this day how he ever passed his driver's exam.
The crime scene itself didn't feel as dangerous as others, but it would be foolish to let my guard down. Several uniformed officers had begun making the rounds to advise people to stay away from any suspicious-looking man carrying a grocery bag. I gave them orders to warn others to avoid any abandoned bags or sacks that seemed out of place. We didn't want anyone triggering the bomb by accident.
"Ludwig!" my partner called me over. "They're ready to have us interview the witnesses!"
Interviews…probably my least favorite part.
"And then that cheating scuzzball had the nerve to text me that he wanted to break up!" the woman sobbed.
"He didn't!" Feliciano gasped, appalled.
The woman simply nodded and accepted the tissue my partner offered her.
"He did! I just can't take it anymore!"
"Oh, you deserve someone so much better than him!" Feliciano exclaimed. "He's not worth it!"
"That's right, officer! You're absolutely right! Thank you! I—"
"Excuse me," I interrupted. They both turned to face me, puzzled. "I appreciate your…willingness to cooperate, but what does this have to do with the suspect concealing a possible bomb?"
"What? I don't know anything about that; I thought you were just asking me about my day!"
Facepalm.
- FELICIANO'S POV -
It had been an intensive round of questioning, which is probably why Ludwig looked so tired. He had gone through his entire coffee after just the first three witnesses. Lud even finished off my coffee despite it containing 'enough sugar and espresso to power half of Daten City' (his words, not mine). While we might not have gained any big leads, we at least were able to rule out cheating ex-boyfriends (although the ex-girlfriend was showing some promise after she started shouting at Ludwig), aliens, and Canadian terrorists. Alfred was going to be so disappointed….
"Where should we begin, Ludwig?" I asked.
"We don't have much to go off of," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "So we'd best investigate the area ourselves and see what turns up."
"Should we wait for Arthur and the others?"
"No…we've heard enough screaming for awhile," he sighed. "I'll leave a message with one of the uniformed officers and we'll catch up with them later."
"Okay!" I saluted him and we walked off to find some evidence.
- MATTHEW'S POV -
My job at the 12th Precinct is simple, but it's anything except easy – Communications. For the most part, I handle dispatch and provide information to our detectives and officers. I don't always get noticed, so I also do the occasional undercover job as well. Otherwise, I just help out around the precinct where it's needed. Communication…easy, right? Wrong.
The problem is they never hear me when I want them to and they always hear me when I want to hide in the corner and die from sheer embarrassment (usually provided by my brother or my boyfriend).
A perfect example is today. I had relayed the threat of a suspect with a potential bomb to two of our best detective teams and neither got it until I paged them specifically (if they didn't have a ringtone on their devices, I question if they'd ever hear me). So of course, after several attempts (2 for Ludwig's team, 3 for Arthur's) I finally was able to give them the info and send them off. It figures that the only person who heard me on the first try was Gilbert – who was neither on duty or involved in that case at all.
"Heya, Birdie," I could hear him grinning over the phone. "How's it going?"
"Well, Gil, I'd love to stay and chat, but—" I began.
"Then stay and chat! It's not like there's a huge emergency or anything!" he laughed.
"Um, actually…"
"What, it's not like that uptight Captain of ours will bitch about you using the phone to talk to an official detective!" Gil chuckled. "That guy needs to get laid in the worst kind of way! I bet he only whines about me because I have you to—"
"Gilbert, he's standing right behind me," I tried to say calmly, my face burning.
"…This is on speaker phone isn't it?"
"Well, I am doing dispatch so…"
"….Scheiße."
I quickly excused myself as Captain Edelstein began ripping Gil a new one for using official police lines for his own personal use.
- FELICIANO'S POV-
We must have gone over the entire park twice and Ludwig still wouldn't let me stop for a snack! It was horrible! I knew I should have packed extra pasta today. Maybe Lovino would bring some leftover lasagna to the station for me…As long as I timed it for when Ludwig and Roderich were away from their desks…and Arthur was getting tea somewhere…and Alfred was across the street ordering burgers…and Francis was nowhere within five miles of the precinct. This was going to be difficult.
I decided to send him a text message anyway. Never hurt to try. When Ludwig asked what I was doing, I told him I was trying to contact one of my CI's. He nodded and let the subject drop. What a relief! Lovino wasn't exactly a Confidential Informant, but he always helped me when I needed it most – like when I was about to die if I didn't get pasta soon!
Ludwig decided to explore the old warehouse from across the street. It technically wasn't on park grounds, but it was suspicious anyway (aren't all abandoned warehouses?) We opened the rusty doors and walked in. Sunlight poured through the dusty windows, so we didn't need our flashlights quite yet.
Suddenly I heard Ludwig stumble to the ground with a grunt. I turned to see if he tripped on something and felt a sharp blow to the back of my head. Everything went black…
- FRANCIS' POV -
It had certainly been an exciting afternoon – bomb threats, angry Englishmen, and beautiful witnesses who had been betrayed by their horrible, unfaithful boyfriends. After I was able to soothe her nerves (and give her my number) we had to race back to the precinct to meet Ludwig and Feliciano to go over the interviews. Normally, I like to take my time, but Ludwig has a thing for punctuality. And by 'thing' I mean 'porcupine stuck up his ass.' Also, for some unfathomable reason, Arthur let Alfred drive. That boy only has two speeds – fast and faster. It's no wonder he and Feli get along so well. Speaking of Feli…
"Oh, isn't that Feliciano?" I asked as we began to walk up the steps to the station.
"I suppose so," Arthur squinted.
His back was to us, but only two people in Daten City had such distinct hair curls…
"I'll go get him!" Alfred offered and jogged up the stairs. "Feli! Hey, Feliiiii!"
…and that wasn't the ahoge-brandishing boy we were seeking.
It all happened faster than a catfight over a designer label dress in Paris during fashion week. Alfred, who was getting no response from the Italian in front of him, ran up and slung his arm over his shoulder. The brunette, not expecting the action, panicked and slugged him in the face. This caused Alfred to stumble backwards, lose his balance and crash into Arthur. The two blondes then stumbled the rest of the way down the stairs (I was able to evade the avalanche with my impeccable and innate grace).
"What the hell were you doing, hamburger bastard?!" the Italian roared. If there was any doubt this wasn't Feliciano, it was cleared up now. "Isn't there a law against assaulting innocent people at the police station?"
"Oh, hey Lovi!" Alfred greeted him brightly, rubbing his slightly bruised cheek. "Didn't realize it was you, buddy!"
"You're anything but 'innocent' you wanker!" Arthur snarled back, shoving the American rookie off him, and glaring at the Italian.
"Sorry, I don't speak 'limey bastard' you jackass!"
"Now, now, no need to get so upset, Lovino," I interjected, walking beside the irritable Italian. "I apologize for our pet rookie's mistake, so how about we all just—"
"Touch me and die, pervert."
I may or may not have shrunk back a little as Alfred bounded back up the stairs, completely unfazed by Feli's violent older twin.
"So what brings you here, Lovino?" he asked.
"My idiot brother, what else?"
"Really? We were just on our way to see him!"
"Perfect, you can be the messenger boy then," Lovino shoved a bag into Alfred's arms. "I'm done dealing with you stupid cops today."
"Oh, really?" I asked with a smirk. "Say, the main suspect in our investigation today was carrying a paper bag as well. Maybe we need to take you in for some questioning?"
Lovino was about to retort, but Arthur was faster.
"You already got to harass enough of the city's population today, frog. Now move your ass before I tell the Captain how you gave out your number to several key witnesses!"
"Why, Arthur!" I exclaimed, looking completely aghast. "I was merely comforting them and giving them a number to use if they required more support!"
"Then explain why you only gave it out to pretty girls."
"Well, you see, none of the men we interviewed were—"
"Forget I asked. Let's go."
- ARTHUR'S POV -
It had been over an hour.
For an entire hour, I was subjugated to Francis hitting on the new intern and Alfred talking with his mouth full of…whatever Lovino had given him to deliver to his brother (it was hard to tell with the state it was currently in). Francis claimed he was only helping the young boy learn the ropes while Alfred jokingly justified eating Feliciano's lunch as punishment for making us wait. Just as I was about to start pulling my hair out, Matthew flew in (good thing he alerted me by slamming the door, he blends right in most of the time) with urgent news.
"G-Guys! This is important!"
"What is it, mon ami?"
"Yeah, bro, we're waiting for Ludwig and Feliciano," Alfred said through mouthfuls of pasta. "Uh…don't tell Feli I found his lunch first, okay?"
"Forget that! This is about Ludwig and Feliciano!" his brother shouted…to the best of his ability. "I just got a message from Ludwig!"
"Did that git explain why he's so late?" I asked, annoyed.
"No! He hit the panic button on his pager 45 minutes ago! I've been trying to get a hold of you guys for over half an hour!"
Cue mass-sweatdropping.
"W-We'll get right on it, Matthew!" I stood up and grabbed my coat. "Send us the coordinates and we'll be on our way!"
We followed the coordinates Matthew sent us and unsurprisingly ended up back in the park district. I had driven, so we got there in no time at all.
"A warehouse…" I muttered. "It's always a bloody warehouse…"
Following Ludwig's distress signal (and every clichéd movie involving a kidnapping), we ended up in the basement level where we found the missing detectives. Both were conscious and seemed unharmed, but were also tied to a chair with some kind of device beside them.
"The hero has arrived!" Alfred exclaimed, jogging over towards his comrades and tossing all means of stealth into the wind.
"Aren't you glad we found you both?" Francis gloated. It was no wonder Alfred behaved the way he did when his senior partner was no better. Thank god he had me to provide a suitable example of how to act.
"Alfred! Francis! Arthur!" beamed Feliciano. "I'm glad to see you guys!"
"Ohonhonhon!" the pervert laughed, gesturing to the ropes. "So am I! I never knew you both were into that sort of thing!"
"If the three of you are done acting like fools, perhaps you can do something about the bomb attached to us?" Ludwig glared.
"A bomb?" I repeated.
Alfred and Francis proceeded to fly off their trolley while I had to get them to calm down again.
"For far too long has my kind been ignored…" a voice hissed from the shadows. It was largely ignored due to the French-American Freak Out.
"Shut up or I'll shoot both of you!"
"Waaaah! Lud! We're going to diiiiiie!"
"He was talking to the others, Feliciano."
"Waaaaaaah!"
"Don't be so surprised when the people who are stepped on every day finally rise up against you in a grand revolution!" The criminal raised his voice. Again he was ignored.
"A-A BOMB?! Mon dieu! What are we supposed to do about a BOMB! We'll be killed! And I just got my hair done!"
"D-Dude! Nobody taught me how to disarm those things yet! Why didn't anyone teach me how to disarm bombs?!"
"Kneel before my glorious—HEY! Are you guys even listening to me!" the 'mastermind' shouted, his revolutionist façade slipping for a more angry hobo image. "HEEEEY! Pay attention to me, dammit!"
This time, we all looked at him. He was an average-looking man in his mid-30s with an average build and an average appearance. He wore a dirty white shirt, old brown jacket, jeans and mismatched shoes.
"Are you the one behind this?" I asked sternly.
"Yes! I designed the bomb myself!" he boasted. "Admit it, you're impressed!"
"Good," I nodded and turned to the rookie. "Alfred, smash."
The criminal was barely able to ask what the hell that meant as Alfred tackled him to the ground in one swift movement. Francis helped hold the budding terrorist and cuff him. I demanded to be told how to deactivate the bomb, but the little shit refused to talk.
"W-What are we gonna do?!" Feliciano asked his partner, panic in his voice.
"I'm not exactly in the position to look at it or dismantle it…" he sighed. "Kirkland, would you mind?"
I quickly began looking the bomb over, but was not about to let this opportunity slip.
"I'm surprised the Great Detective Beilschmidt would trust me with his life like this!"
"I don't plan on making a habit of it, don't worry," Ludwig frowned. "It was either you or one of your dummkopf partners."
"That's understandable," I smirked as I worked on the bomb.
I sounded confident on the outside, but the deeper I got into the bomb, the more uncertain I became. The munition circuitry in particular was completely baffling. Nothing was where it should be and without an RCV, I couldn't even tell if I was dealing with a chemical, biological, or (highly unlikely) a nuclear agent. I was just grateful the area around us was less populated and the park had been cleared out of most of its occupants while searching for the bomb.
Not that it really helped any of us out any if this bloody thing went off.
"Problem, Kirkland?" the German asked, slightly worried.
"It doesn't resemble any bomb I've seen before…"
"Should we call a bomb squad?" he asked as a tiny beep went off.
"W-What was that?" Feli squeaked.
"…Scratch calling a bomb squad."
"Why?" growled the German.
"I might have set off the timer and it's counting down…" I replied meekly.
"WHAT?!" four voices cried out.
"How much time do we have?" Ludwig asked, trying to keep his cool.
"Five minutes."
"We're gonna end up like smashed jelly donuts!" Alfred shouted.
"Non! I'm too beautiful to die!" Francis shrieked.
"I-I can't die yet! Fratello will kill me!"
"That's right! I'm so sorry Feli!" the rookie remembered his lunch. "I was the one who ate your lasagna! I was gonna pin it on Artie, but it was me!"
"YOU ATE MY LASAGNA?!"
"Haha! Take that, pigs!" the explosives enthusiast next to Alfred crowed. "What a fool to have set it off! How predictably stupid!"
"Shut up, you bloody git!" I turned to yell at the idiot, which caused Ludwig to demand I get back to work. "I know, I know! Five minutes is plenty of time, I just have to figure out the deactivation wire! Once I know that, disarming it will be easier than cooking a cake!"
Several whimpers were heard.
"Baking a cake, Arthur," Francis sighed. "You bake a cake!"
"Piss off, frog! Who asked you?!" I shouted back, cheeks a bit flushed. "This moron coded all the wires the same, so it's just a little harder than your average bomb…Dammit, what I wouldn't give for a Pigstick…"
After explaining to Feliciano that I was asking for a water-jet disrupter and not shish kabob, Ludwig told Francis to take a picture of the bomb, so he could get a better look at it. Unfortunately after studying it for a moment, he and I had a disagreement over which wire to cut. Typical stubborn German.
"U-Um, Mr. Bad Guy, would you please tell us which wire to cut?" Feliciano tried asking nicely.
"Never! Haha! We're all going to die here together!" he laughed at him and began singing. "Everyone will die~! Everyone will burn~! Only my revolution will remain~!"
Alfred tried asking with the same result. That song was really starting to annoy me. At the two minute mark, I ordered him to talk.
"Death to the government lapdogs~! Deeeeeeeath~!"
Without looking, I whipped out my gun and shot him in the kneecap. Everyone was a little started to say the least.
"Artie! What the fuck?!" Alfred shouted, eyes wide. "A little warning would have been nice!"
"You shot me!" the criminal wailed in pain. "You shot me in the fucking knee!"
"Your other one's next if you don't tell me which bloody wire to cut," I gave him a deathglare and aimed my gun.
"F-First one on the left!" he squeaked in fear.
It was the one neither Ludwig or I had suspected, so it was Ludwig's turn to make the guy wet himself.
"If you are lying, I will send you to hell myself…" he threatened, icy blue eyes piercing a hole through the little man before him.
"I-I'm telling the truth, I swear!"
It was good enough for me. I cut the wire with one minute to spare, deactivating the bomb. A huge sigh of relief resounded through the room. Francis called for reinforcements and the bomb squad came in to sweep the area for more bombs, just in case. When reinforcements arrived, they made sure Feliciano and Ludwig were safe, while I personally escorted our little terrorist friend out.
"I still can't believe you shot him, Arthur!" Alfred exclaimed somewhere between shock and awe. It was also one of the few times he called me by my actual name. I should shoot people more often…
"It was self-defense," I said in a bored tone.
"What? But I had him!" the rookie insisted. "You weren't in danger."
"It wasn't me, it was you," I nodded. "Wanker was pulling out a knife."
"Wait, what?" Alfred was puzzled. "How would you know? You're back was turned!"
I shoved my hand into the criminal's back, like a gun.
"Oi, wanker. You had a knife, didn't you?"
"U-Uh, yes sir!" he jolted. "I had a very large knife! It was all kinds of scary!"
Alfred blinked while Francis just sweatdropped.
"I believe that's called intimidating the criminal, mon ami…"
A/N
I always wondered for every good interview the police get, just how many whacked-out, crazy, drug-induced interviews they have to suffer through first.
Also, since the Roman Word is that British police are the best, I took that to heart when writing Arthur. If I was ever in a situation requiring a cop, I sure as hell would want the guy willing to kneecap the douchebag responsible for the incident and then book him for every citation and offense possible. The cute accent doesn't hurt either.
-Rajikka
TRANSLATIONS
Scheiße – Shit (German)
Ahoge – literally "idiot hair" (Japanese) Originally a hairdresser's term for the "stupid hairs" or cowlicks that would not comb down, it can now mean the character with an ahoge is stupid, naïve, or strange. Of course not every character with one fits into any of those categories. Sometimes crazy hair just happens.
Dummkopf – Dumb head (German)
Mon dieu – My god (French)
Mon ami – My friend (French)
Pigstick – British Army term for the water-jet disrupter that is commonly found on "Wheelbarrows" (remotely operated vehicles). It's a very reliable device for disabling bombs and now used worldwide. (English)