Chapter 3 – JJ's 'Extra-Hours'

JJ strode down the street, his pace quickening until he was running. He didn't know where he was running to. He didn't care. No-one would miss him wherever he went. No-one would come looking.

He didn't know how he ended up there, but he was glad to find where he was. He was in his old neighbourhood. Hardly a respectable place. It was, in fact only a five minute walk from Dee's old church.

JJ sighed. This is where he really belonged. The slums. The brothels to be more exact.

JJ was the son of a whore. He was born and raised in a whorehouse in New York City. That had been where he had learned all of his sexual tricks, how best to pleasure another human. He had never told anyone about this part of himself, not even his work partner, Drake. It wasn't something he was particularly ashamed of, but nor was it something he was particularly proud of.

He felt that it was time to pay his old home a visit. Pay a visit and get paid. It wasn't something that JJ did often. Only on the days where he felt like he was good for nothing.

JJ, despite his status as a cop, also sold his body on occasion.

Tonight, I'm gonna get drunk, and I'm gonna get shagged… hey I actually feel pretty suicidal, maybe I'll have a wander down to ganglands. They pay the best.

He looked down at his clothes. Not exactly the most alluring get-up, but black always set off his eye colour and his skin, and in the game he was playing, they were his biggest assets.

That night, JJ had wandered from dingy apartment to dingy apartment. Having intercourse with any man who wanted it and who was willing to pay a large amount of money. He did end up in the ganglands, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. He did suffer a few cuts and bruises from a couple of his more violent clients. Unfortunately this also led to a large bruise covering most of the left side of his face.

He didn't know how he had done it, but he had made it back to his own apartment the night before… or during the early hours in the morning. He was in his own bed and he sat up slowly, holding his head gingerly as it began to throb. Then he grimaced as a sharp pain travelled from his anus and straight up his spine.

"How many people screwed me last night?" He muttered, quietly. "Ohh, my head… how much did I drink last night?"

A soft clang alerted him to the fact that someone was in the kitchen. Did I bring someone home? He thought, I never bring anyone home, even if I'm totally drunk.

Unhurriedly, he got up from the bed and crept toward the door of his bedroom; he peeked outside. In the kitchen, directly across from JJ's bedroom, Berkley was rummaging around, finishing his coffee and putting things back in their places.

Why is he still here? He should have left last night… oh god! Was he here when I came in? Does he know I'm here?

JJ continued to watch his boss rummage about and when the man turned toward the door JJ froze. He knew that Berkley couldn't see him, but he was terrified of his boss finding out about his activities last night. He was surprised when Berkley shook his head then turned away and bent a little over the kitchen work top. JJ was curious as to what he was doing, but nature called and he needed to pee.

When he had finished, he gave his appearance a quick look. To be frank, he looked awful. One bruise, given by one of his more violent clients, covered one cheek and he could feel more bruises elsewhere on his body.

I need a coffee and a shower.

He slowly emerged from the bedroom, checking that Berkley had left. He swiftly made his way to the kitchen and was mildly surprised that there was a note on the kitchen top.

It read:

JJ,

I didn't go home last night and I have your keys. Didn't hear you come back, so call in this morning. I want to know that my sharpest shooter is still alive.

See you tomorrow,

Berkley

JJ snorted, as if he cares, he thought. He set about making his coffee and making arrangements to go into the precinct to practice his shooting. The phone on his desk rang several times before Drake picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Drake!" JJ put on his 'happy' voice.

"Hey, JJ." Drake replied, sullen as he always was in the morning.

"Why are you so upset? Actually, never mind… could you tell Berkley that I called in and can you also slot me in for target practice around noon?"

"Tell Berkley… target practice – noon. Yup, okay, no problem. By the way what happened to you last night?"

Suddenly JJ thought of where he was last night had someone seen him…? "What d'ya mean, Drake?"

"Well, uh… well it might just be you joking around, but Ryo said that he got a call from you last night – he and Dee were on night-shift."

Oh, shit. "And what was the call about."

"Uh, well, he said that there were heavy breathing noises, moans and you saying something like 'stop, it hurts'. But I don't really know… maybe you should talk to him when you get in." JJ heard murmuring on the other end of the line, then Drake said, "Look I gotta go, but I owe you a coffee anyway so I'll take you out later, 'kay. I'll see ya, JJ."

"Okay, thanks Drake, byee!"

"Later." And then the phone clicked off.

JJ sighed and replaced the receiver. This is not good. I can't believe I was so out of it that I called the station!... he put a hand over his mouth as he thought, then he shrugged, I'll come up with something later, but right now I need a shower.

As he took off his clothes and stepped into the shower, he gasped. He could feel each and every single bruise and scrape, but now he could also see them and his pale skin, that had always been prone to bruising was littered with them. Finger prints mostly. Large, violently purple finger prints.

JJ shuddered. Usually he didn't choose the violent ones; he was one who enjoyed gentleness. I guess I really was suicidal. He looked down at his under-pants. Blood. Yup, suicidal. Then he took his wallet out of his pants pocket and checked how much he had been paid. He estimated about $2000. He gave a low whistle then shoved his pants and the rest of his clothes into the laundry hamper. He then stepped into the shower, the steam filling the bathroom quickly.

Again he sighed as he felt every knot and ache washed away. He washed his body gently and was sure to clean his ass thoroughly. He was in tears by the time he had finished, but glad that he had taken care of it.

He dressed quickly after that, realising that it was almost noon, but skipped breakfast and, after cleaning his teeth, left and took the subway to the station.

He arrived at the 27th precinct at 12.30. He was always tardy on his days off, but never a minute late when it was his shift. It was one of the reasons that Berkley thought that he was a reliable detective.

At the thought of Berkley, JJ heart sank… what was he going to tell his boss if he ran into him? JJ rubbed his face and looked up at the station building. This was gonna be a tough few hours.

He took a deep breath and plastered on his trade-mark smile before stepping into the building.