Mickey ducked away from the fist coming towards him and spun to throw his weight on one leg so he could extend the other in a kick that his opponent barely managed to dodge with a yelp.
Mickey let his arms (and leg) drop as he froze on the mat. "Gallagher."
"Right, right," Ian replied with a grin as he dropped his own stance. "Audible noises of distress tell the opponent that they have the upper hand," he recited as though he'd heard it from Mickey several times. (He had).
"That's the end of your hour." Mickey turned away from Ian so he couldn't see the grin that Mickey could feel pulling at the corners of his mouth. Ian could be fierce-eyed and serious one moment and smiling and somewhat silly the next, making him one of Mickey's favorite clients.
"Damn, my hour always goes by too fast," Ian complained as he followed Mickey to the nearby benches so he could grab a towel for his face.
"Damn," Mickey parroted back with a grin, "Wish I felt the same way."
Ian laughed with a "Hey!" and elbowed him, leading Mickey to chuckle as well.
"Are we good for next Monday?" Ian asked, throwing his towel over his shoulder and picking up his water bottle.
"I'll be here."
"Do you work over the weekend?"
Mickey quirked an eyebrow. He and Ian had met on Monday nights for Ian's kickboxing lessons for the past few months. "Do you want to change what day we meet?"
"Oh, uh, no."
Mickey tilted his head as he watched Ian suddenly look bashful, even going as far as to rub a hand across the back of his neck.
"No, no. Monday works great. I'll see you next Monday?"
Mickey nodded, even if he was still slightly confused. He offered a small wave in return to Ian's salute as he turned on his heel to walk away. Mickey watched him head towards the locker rooms until he sensed a presence over his shoulder. He turned to side-eye Talia behind him, as she also appeared to be watching Ian leave.
"Have you seen him before he gets changed for your sessions? He always shows up in a suit. Then you get him good and sweaty. Looks good coming and going, eh, Mickey?"
Mickey sighed and turned away from her to head towards the office he shared with her and a few other trainers.
"What does he do, anyway? His suits are nice, but they aren't, like, tailored-nice."
"Mickey, Talia, we're meeting in five," Jerry reminded them as they walked past him.
"I still don't understand how he's the most popular personal trainer here," Talia snorted quietly once they were (hopefully) out of Jerry's earshot. "His only expression is dissatisfied, and his only tone of voice is stern. Yet, he has the highest client retention rate."
"They're probably too scared to quit."
Talia laughed even as she pulled her phone from her back pocket. Her laughter petered out as she appeared to read a text. "I'll see you in there," she told him as she turned a corner and lifted her phone to her ear.
Mickey nodded as he chugged some water on his way to the employee conference room. He'd forgotten about the monthly staff meeting, likely because he'd spent the day looking forward to Ian's session, but also because these meetings were boring as hell.
Talia joined the meeting after it began, earning a look from Jerry (likely a glare, but his face always looked like that, so it was hard to tell). She sat next to Mickey, shoulders slumped and face pinched in frustration as she toyed with her phone in both hands.
"What's wrong with you?" he whispered to her.
She shrugged. "Boy problems. You know how it is," she whispered back.
"I know a guy who knows a guy," Mickey joked quietly.
Talia huffed a laugh and set her phone on the conference table. Mickey tuned back into the retention stats the managers were sharing with them.
"Did you ask him to dinner or drinks or something after?" Sue asked. She leaned back in her desk chair, notes about their current case forgotten as she looked expectantly at Ian from across their adjacent desks.
"Nah," Ian shook his head and took another sip of coffee. It'd been a few days since his last Monday night session with Mickey and given that Sue hadn't immediately asked this question Tuesday morning, Ian had been hoping that she would forget about it entirely and forever.
"Aww, I thought you were going to this time?"
"Almost did, but, uh… I don't know. I probably shouldn't ask him out at his job. Right? Plus, if he says no, I'll have to completely switch gyms."
"Ian," Sue sighed with fond exasperation.
"What? You know how hard it is to get out of those gym memberships."
"It probably is more respectable to not ask him out while he's working directly with you," Sue hummed, finally righting her chair and going back to what she was typing before. "Maybe you could end your session, go get changed, or whatever, and then find him in the gym. That way it's definitely after your session?"
Thankfully, a knock on their office door saved Ian from responding further.
"Gallagher, you've got a visitor," the younger officer at their door said before stepping to the side, revealing said visitor behind him.
Ian's chair slid behind him as he quickly pushed himself to his feet. "Mickey. Hey, man."
"Mickeyyyyy," Sue said, tone teasing as she stood as well. "Come in. Have a seat." She waved a hand towards the additional chair in their office.
Sue was trying to shoot him looks, but Ian's eyes were pinned on Mickey as he haltingly entered the room and gingerly sat in the chair.
"This is my partner, Detective Sue Garret." Ian nodded towards Sue while he wheeled his chair around the side of his desk so he could sit closer to Mickey. He watched Mickey greet Sue and waited for Mickey's attention to return to him before quietly asking. "What's going on?"
Thankfully, Sue followed Ian's lead and sat quietly in her own chair. Ian was grateful for the fact that although Sue didn't know Mickey, she and Ian had worked together long enough for Sue to recognize the change in Ian's demeanor immediately.
"Someone asked me to do somethin and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it." Mickey's eyes bounced between Sue and Ian before settling on Ian again.
"Okay," Ian said with a nod. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. Mickey looked pale. And uncomfortable. Ian wanted to do his best to show Mickey that he had his full attention.
"Fuck," Mickey muttered, before glancing at Sue again and offering an apology.
Sue waved her hands at Mickey. "There's very little you can say that will offend me."
Mickey nodded at her in thanks. "I never thought I'd go to the cops for anything," he quietly confessed, more to himself than the two detectives in the room.
Ian couldn't bite back his snort. Once Mickey learned that Ian was a detective – a cop – he'd been relentless in his teasing. They were both South Side, although they'd never met growing up, and Ian knew how ingrained it was in all of them to avoid cops.
Ian's snort seemed to relax Mickey, much to Ian's relief. His shoulders dropped and some color returned to his face before he began speaking again.
"There's this woman at the gym, she's one of the yoga instructors. I wouldn't say that we're friends outside of work, but we'll talk or joke in the gym."
"Okay," Ian said, mind already racing. Was this woman harassing Mickey? Was there something shady going on at the gym?
"She waited yesterday till we were the only two in our office - we have to share this office with other trainers - and she waited till they left before she pulled a chair to my desk and began whispering that she needed my help. That her boyfriend has a wife, and she wants to know how I can help get rid of her."
Ian sucked air through his teeth and straightened in his seat. His lips pursed as he glanced at Sue. Sue's eyes were narrowed as she considered Mickey.
"Why would she think she could ask you something like that?" Sue asked in an even tone.
Mickey exhaled harshly, already shaking his head. "I don't – I don't know. She told me a couple nights ago during a work meeting that she had boy troubles and I joked that I knew a guy or whatever. But I don't actually know a guy. Not anymore anyway," Mickey mumbled as he rubbed the area between his eyebrows with a single finger, clearly agitated. "And it ain't like I got a second job knocking people off."
"Also, most hitmen don't walk into the police station and tell us when someone offers them a job," Ian said, tone jovial to keep Mickey calm and talking to them. He leaned in towards Mickey once again. "What else can you tell us? What else did she say?"
"I didn't say much in response to her," Mickey stated after a quiet moment. "And then I didn't get much fuckin sleep last night because I realized I can't just say no to her, because she'll just go ask someone else. So, I went into work today and repeated that I knew a guy. And I asked for a picture."
Mickey pulled his phone from his pocket and began to tap at the screen.
"If I give you an email, can you forward the photo?" Sue asked.
Mickey nodded and typed the email into his phone as Sue recited it. Sue turned her laptop screen so Ian and Mickey could see it as well while she pulled up her email. When the photo filled the screen, both she and Ian swore under their breath simultaneously.
"You know her?" Mickey asked, obviously surprised by their reactions.
Ian nodded as he turned his attention back to Mickey. "What's this yoga teacher's name?"
Mickey's eyes were jumping back and forth between the two detectives but when neither seemed to be about to reveal how they knew the woman in the picture, he refocused on Ian again. "Her name is Talia."
"Did she say anything about the boyfriend being involved in the request?" Ian asked.
Mickey shook his head.
"Would you be willing to set up a meeting with Talia that we could record?" Sue asked gently.
Mickey looked to Ian with a question in his eyes.
"We believe you," Sue said plainly. "The DA is gonna want proof, though. They won't let us just arrest her or charge her based on your word alone."
"Arrest," Mickey muttered, running a hand through his hair as he slumped in his chair.
"Mick?" Ian asked, drawing Mickey's attention back to him. "Do you want to take a break? Think about it?"
Mickey hesitated and then shook his head. What he wanted was out of this situation while still being able to sleep at night. The only way he knew to do that was to hand it over to the cops. To Ian. The fact that they weren't just taking it off his hands was immediately frustrating.
"What do I even say?" Mickey asked reluctantly. "I already asked for the picture. You clearly know who that lady is, so just. Fuckin watch out for her or whatever."
"You have the relationship with Talia," Sue said gently. "She trusts you, so she's likely to tell you more than some random undercover we try to send to her right now."
"Maybe just a meeting to discuss what she wants?" Ian asked. "You can blame it on the hitman you allegedly know. Say he wants more info and all that?"
Mickey seemed to think it over for a minute before reluctantly nodding.
"Thanks, Mickey," Sue said. "Ian and I will come up with the best place for you to meet her and we'll arrange all the equipment. Sound okay?"
Mickey nodded again as he stood. He glanced at Ian when he reached the door. "Are ya still coming to our next session? Or do you gotta stay away or whatever?"
"I'll definitely be there," Ian reassured. "She won't know I'm involved at all. But, also, it's best not to make any big changes in routine right now."
"And you'll need to make sure you don't share this with anyone else," Sue added. "No other coworkers, relatives, roommates, partners."
Ian noticed Mickey frown a bit at that, but he still nodded once again and then slipped out the door.
"Do you know the yoga teacher he's talking about?" Sue asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Ian nodded. He stared at the seat where Mickey had sat a moment before. "I think I've even seen them talking to each other at the gym."
Sue stared woefully at the photo that remained on her screen. "I can't believe it's a hit for Mrs. Penn," she whispered.
Ian definitely shared Sue's shock about the intended victim. "Mickey will help us get more information."
"What a nightmare," Sue groaned. "It's always terrible, but especially when you know the person you have to protect."
"We need to get started on organizing the next meeting," Ian asserted, standing. "Pick a location and all that."
Mickey's thumb tapped against the steering wheel as he sat in the designated meeting place - a South Side grocery store parking lot - and waited for Talia to show. Talia had complained about having to come to the South Side, but he'd easily persuaded her when he pointed out she didn't want anyone in their regular neighborhoods spotting them. Plus, the South Side location seemed to give Mickey even more credibility as a guy who could get her a hitman.
There were cameras and microphones planted in his car. Ian's words replaying in his head: "You can't force her to say anything. Let her do the talking."
He hated feeling nervous. Hated that he was doing this at all.
When he'd texted Talia to ask if they could meet, she'd suggested they meet right away. Thankfully, Ian, Sue, and the few others Mickey had been introduced to when they met to rig his car, had been able to work quickly.
"Okay, so here's the deal," Talia was speaking even before she was fully seated in Mickey's car. "It really needs to look like an accident. Can your guy do that?"
Mickey flashed back to his father and brother jumping into the car with him behind the wheel. Already talking, already planning the next step, the next stop, the next drop.
Mickey slouched further into his seat. He still hated every bit of this, but he knew how to speak this language. He could fucking do this.
"Did you have something in mind?" he asked her.
"I don't," Talia said, "but he really wants to know how it can look like an accident?"
'He?' Ian mouthed silently to Sue where they sat in a nearby van. They both wore headphones to listen in while also watching the live feed from Mickey's car cameras.
Sue frowned but said, "Just because she's saying that doesn't mean Dr. Penn is actually involved."
"Lots of ways to make it look like an accident," Mickey replied.
"Is the price negotiable?"
"Could probably make an exception for you." He ran a thumb across his eyebrow. "If you're serious about this."
"Completely serious," Talia assured. "The money isn't really even the problem. Honestly, he said he'd pay a hundred grand. The problem is the guy is so emotionally upset about this, knowing his kids will be without a mother. It's killing him."
Ian sent another significant look to Sue. Sue still didn't look completely convinced that Dr. Penn was involved but she also looked like she was beginning to waver in her support for the department's favorite surgeon.
"Oh, wait. Phone call." Talia pulled her phone from her pocket and then hopped out of the car.
"Shit, shit, shit," Sue cursed as Ian dialed Mickey's number.
Mickey pulled his own phone from his pocket and watched Talia as he answered.
"Did you see who's calling her?"
"The screen said my honey," Mickey murmured.
"What if Dr. Penn is here and he recognized one of us?" Sue hissed in Ian's direction.
Ian waved her off. "Okay, she's getting back in the car."
Mickey was about to pocket his phone again when Ian's voice rang out. "Hey Mick?"
Mickey grunted quickly in response.
"You're doing great. Keep it up."
Mickey warmed at Ian's words and repocketed his phone as Talia opened the door and slid back into the passenger seat.
"He wants to meet you," she announced immediately, "but he's got to pick up his kids. Can you be around later tonight?"
There was just a moment of it, but Ian watched Mickey hesitate before he responded. "Yeah, sure."
Ian wanted to breathe a sigh of relief that Mickey continued with the facade, but that moment of hesitation sent a ping of worry through him.
As Talia hopped out of Mickey's car and headed down the sidewalk opposite from where they sat, Sue sat back in her seat and dialed up their chief. With her busy with that, Ian dialed Mickey via his personal cell phone.
"You okay?" Ian asked as he slid into The Alibi booth where he found Mickey after scanning the bar for the man.
He figured Mickey could use a little pep talk before the next meeting, that Mickey wouldn't mind a South Side dive bar (would probably even be familiar with The Alibi), and also that The Alibi would be the last place Talia would go.
Mickey's eyebrows rose in surprise at Ian's question, which secretly made Ian smile. He loved Mickey's expressive eyebrows.
"I'm fucking fine," Mickey declared before draining his beer. He tipped the empty bottle towards Ian. "You want one? Wasn't sure if were on the clock or not so I didn't get you one."
"Yeah, unfortunately, I am still on the clock," Ian said regretfully.
"Your loss." Mickey smirked as he rose from the booth and headed to the bar.
Ian watched him go – admiring the strut he associated with Mickey. Also, he only ever saw Mickey in gym clothes - tanks and loose shorts – and he had absolutely no fucking complaints about the fact that he frequently got to see Mickey's bare arms and legs. But, damn, Mickey was really wearing the hell out of some jeans and a black sweater.
Mickey returned with a new beer bottle but also two bottles of water, one which he placed in front of Ian.
"Thanks," Ian said with a sincere smile. "You ever been here before?"
Mickey nodded as his eyes trailed over the interior of the bar. "Pops probably had me in here as a baby. Spent a lot of time in here growing up."
"Really?" Ian asked, sort of incredulous. "I wonder how we never meet. I was here all the time, too. Kev and Vee were our neighbors."
Mickey nodded in recognition of the couple who used to own the place. Then he scratched one of his eyebrows as he shrugged. "Probably for the best, man. I was a real asshole back then. Probably would've beat the shit outta ya for looking at me."
"Doesn't seem like much has changed since then," Ian teased, which earned him a kick to his shins. "Hey, watch the suit," he laughed.
"Can't believe they even let you in here wearing that," Mickeys teased back.
Ian shrugged and glanced around the bar. "Lot different from when Frank used to be planted on a stool. Plus, my younger brother co-owns the bar now, so I can probably get away with a lot in here now."
"Fancy," Mickey grinned. "Didn't know I was sitting with an Alibi VIP."
"Oh yeah, I can get you all the free peanuts you want. Probably."
"Dork," Mickey muttered. "Wait, Frank Gallagher? Drunk hobo Frank was your dad?"
"Sort of," Ian nodded.
Mickey quirked an eyebrow at that but didn't ask further before Ian said, "Hey, about this project you're involved in –"
Mickey snorted at his terminology.
"- I get that this is a lot, and now you're stuck doing another… session. But you did great earlier. And, I know we didn't say this before, but the lady that this project is focused on…"
"Do we have to talk in code?" Mickey muttered glancing around at the local drunks with a small grin.
Ian laughed a bit. "My older brother makes fun of me. Says he doesn't understand how a guy without a subtle bone in his body made detective."
Mickey's grin grew wider as his eyes swept over as much of Ian as he could see over the booth table. "So, what about this lady? Who is she?"
Ian glanced around for a minute before he responded. "Sometimes people in the community will volunteer their time or services to the police department. There's a local surgeon, Dr. Penn, who volunteers to help us when we're injured. I got stabbed last month," – he wasn't wearing his suit jacket, so he just had to roll up one of his sleeves to his elbow to point to a long scar that ran down his forearm – "and Dr. Penn stitched me right up. I saw him for a follow-up recently and he mentioned he was separated from his wife."
"And that's who this lady is?"
Ian nodded. "Mrs. Penn. Sherry. Nicest lady. They have three kids she dotes on, and she practically organizes the annual police gala every year by herself. Not – not that those are the only reasons we should care, but -"
Mickey waved him off. "I get it. Nice lady we'd like to keep alive."
Ian stuttered out a sigh. "Yeah. So, Sue and I know her, but we also know him. It's definitely a shock to hear that he's likely involved. And we really have to make sure he doesn't see anyone from the station – he'd recognize us for sure. But what I really wanted to say is that you're doing a really good thing. And I appreciate that you're willing to meet with her again later." Ian pressed back in his seat, his long legs extending, knees bumping into Mickey's knees.
Mickey didn't flinch at the touch. They'd touched plenty in the gym - correcting Ian's form, flipping each other around on the mats. But this was new, a touch without a purpose other than possibly to comfort. Mickey adjusted himself on his own side of the booth and nudged Ian's knee in return before leaving them pressed together. He watched Ian duck his head, but it wasn't enough to hide the red that moved up his neck and covered his face.
Mickey grinned in response. Fucking dork.
Mickey rubbed his thumb along his eyebrow as he sat waiting for Talia. He'd been prepped with new questions from Ian and Sue. They wanted to see if he could get a deposit this time around.
Ian watched Mickey's nervous tic as he waited with Sue in their nearby van. Sue was mumbling to herself – her own nervous tic – that Dr. Penn wasn't going to show. No way could it be Dr. Penn.
"Shit," Ian whispered as Dr. Penn's Maserati pulled into the parking lot and parked next to Mickey's older Buick.
Sue had fallen silent next to him. Via the camera aimed at Mickey's car, they watched a screen that revealed Dr. Penn exiting the driver's seat of his own car and gingerly opening Mickey's passenger door before seating himself. Talia hopped out of Dr. Penn's passenger seat and walked around the back of the Maserati before she slid herself into Mickey's back seat. Ian and Sue's eyes moved to the screen where they could watch the three of them in the car.
"Maybe he has no idea what he's doing here," Sue whispered hopefully.
"Talia said there was kinda timeline with this?" Mickey asked.
Dr. Penn had been eyeing Mickey in a way that made Ian grind his teeth a bit, but after a few moments, he responded. "Yeah, ASAP."
"Fuck," Sue said emphatically. "He's a bad guy and he has to go to prison."
Ian patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. He was as disappointed about Dr. Penn being involved as she was.
"My guy wants a deposit, so he knows you're serious. Ya hand it over and he can do it tonight."
Dr. Penn nodded at Mickey, glanced at Talia in the backseat, and then exited the car. Talia quickly followed and the two of them stood outside Mickey's car together talking.
Talia reopened Mickey's passenger door and sat inside again while Dr. Penn returned to the driver's seat of his own car again.
"He's real chatty, huh?" Mickey deadpanned.
"Okay, so," Talia said, ignoring his comment, "he gave me the money, but he wants me to hold it until he makes up his mind."
Ian's head dropped back with a groan of frustration.
Mickey's eyebrows flew up his forehead. "I can't sit around and meet every fuckin day to talk about the same fuckin thing."
The offended tone actually made Ian grin.
"Sorry, babe," Talia shrugged. "He's the boss. Told me he needs a little time."
Mickey rolled his eyes.
"See ya at work tomorrow," Talia said before exiting Mickey's car to rejoin Dr. Penn in his.
Ian watched the Maserati back out and drive away before he refocused on the screen and found Mickey rubbing his eyebrow again.
"Think your guy is okay with more meetings despite what he just asserted to Talia?" Sue asked.
"Hopefully." Ian pulled out his phone and texted Mickey: Alibi?
He watched Mickey on the screen pull out his phone and read the text. He thumbed the corner of his mouth. Maybe trying to hide the way the corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he read.
The Alibi was busier than it had been when Ian and Mickey were there earlier, and in a way, the louder hum of voices gave them more coverage. Mickey gave Sue a bit of a look as he slid into the booth opposite Ian and Sue and Ian briefly wondered if Mickey thought he'd only be meeting with Ian again.
"Got you a beer." Ian slid the bottle towards Mickey.
Mickey picked it up with a grateful nod and took a sip, noting that both detectives were also drinking.
"Off the clock?" Mickey asked.
"We are, but we do still need to talk shop," Sue said, diving back into it. "We need you to set up another meeting as soon as you can."
Mickey hadn't even gotten the bottle back to his lips yet, and his hand stalled in the air. "How many times do I gotta meet? Dude showed up today. Why can't you use that?"
"We need an overt act," Sue stated.
Mickey's eyebrows lifted dramatically, and he looked back to Ian.
"Three people talking about a crime is not a crime," Ian explained with a regretful shrug. "We don't have a crime yet. The DA will want proof of a crime, which in this case will an overt act. That's when the bad guy hands over money, provides details about where you can find the person, etc." Mickey had begun to smirk and Ian could feel himself turning red. Still, he finished his explanation. "It's an unequivocal agreement."
"Bad guy, huh?"
"You fucking know what I mean," Ian grumbled, slouching into his seat so his knee could bump Mickey's.
"Why can't I just let Talia come to me?" Mickey asked, eyes on Sue even as he pressed his knee into Ian's. "Maybe they'll even back out, that'd be good right?"
"Honestly?" Sue said, "Once it reaches this point, where they're involving an outside party, very few people back out of these situations. And, while I had hopes that we could insert an undercover as the hitman soon, our bad guy" – she shot Ian a teasing look – "seemed very cagey today. I worry introducing someone new will scare him off."
"And scaring him off isn't the same as him backing out of this plan?"
Ian shook his head. "It could mean they start shopping around for someone else and that could lead to real danger. We'd have no control over what was happening, obviously. We want to keep their attention on you."
Mickey frowned and rubbed a thumb nail across an eyebrow. "Who's to say they're not already doing that? Are you guys gonna fill this lady in or watch her or whatever?"
"We've talked about it with our chief," Sue nodded. "We're not sure how she'd handle knowing. She could confront him or leave town. Either would disrupt what's happening with this investigation, which would obviously put her in danger longer."
"But we are going to put eyes on her," Ian interjected before the protest he could see Mickey building. "Undercover eyes. She won't be left alone in this."
Ian nudged Mickey's knee. Mickey pressed back but released a frustrated sigh. This was fucking stressful, but he could see why it couldn't be over just yet. He thought about the three kids who could not only be left without a mom, but with only a douchebag for a father if they didn't do this right. He lifted his bottle in a cheers motion before his next drink.
"Thank you, Mr. Milkovich. You're a real gem," Sue praised. "And now I'm going home. I'll speak to you both tomorrow."
Ian looked surprised for a moment, Mickey noted, but he waved his coworker off before turning his attention back to Mickey.
"She's right, ya know. You are a real gem."
"Fuck off," Mickey replied to Ian and his stupid shit-eating grin. He ducked his head to hide his own grin. This was stressful, but extra time with this redheaded dork helped to balance the situation. "You gotta go, too?"
"I don't have any plans tonight, although Sue seems to have forgotten she's my ride," Ian chuckled.
"I can give you a ride," Mickey offered. "You still live South Side?"
Ian shook his head. "I had to get out of the Gallagher house a couple years ago, and the only places I could afford, thanks to the gentrifiers raising the rent around here - and to avoid a roommate - and to avoid a crack house -"
"Damn, that's a high wish list, Gallagher."
"- were West Side apartments." Ian kicked at Mickey under the table and Mickey capture one of his feet between his own.
Mickey chuckled. "You sounded like you're confessing to a fucking crime."
Ian chuckled, too. "I do feel guilty sometimes about having a West Side apartment. Like, South Side forever, right?" Ian started laughing again as he watched Mickey. "Holy shit, you just turned so red. What is happening?"
Mickey released Ian's foot so he could straighten in his seat and pull his sweater sleeve up to his elbow so he show Ian the forearm tattoo Ian had seen plenty of times in the gym, although he'd never asked Mickey what it said.
"South Side forever," Mickey offered, pointing to the Spanish words. "And now I live West Side. Took me a long time to adjust, but it's cheaper and closer to work."
Ian about fell over laughing on his side of the booth. "How dare you leave, you hypocrite."
Mickey bunched up the small napkin he had and threw it at Ian's head. "Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna regret telling you, aren't I?"
"So, so much," Ian nodded. "Why the hell is your tattoo in Spanish?"
"Was in Mexico when I got it."
"Hold on," Ian said, pushing to stand. "I'm getting us another round, and then you're telling me about your trip out of the country and your homesickness tattoo."
Mickey kicked at Ian's ankles as he exited the booth.
"Here ya go, West Side," Mickey snickered, eyebrows bouncing. "Delivered you safely at home."
Ian laughed as he leaned onto Mickey's shoulder. "Sure ya did, hero. You're a great driver by the way."
"Are you both getting out here or is there another stop?" their Uber driver asked.
"You have to get out first." Mickey pushed at Ian's shoulder. "Make it seem like I delivered you to your place."
"That is so stupid," Ian laughed. "Come on." He grabbed Mickey's arm and tugged as he moved to get out of the back seat. "If you really want to deliver me home, you can walk me to my door."
"Needy," Mickey huffed.
"Bye, Other Mickey," Ian waved as he exited.
"My name is still Tom!" their driver called out to them as they swung the back door shut.
"Shit." Mickey glanced around. "I live down there." He pointed in the direction of his own apartment building.
"Yeah?" Ian grinned.
"Yeah, guess I don't need Other Mickey to come back and drive me home, then."
Ian stepped in close then, eyes almost predatory as the tall fucker looked down into Mickey's eyes.
"I was hoping you wouldn't need to go home tonight anyway."
Mickey released the breath he'd begun holding when Ian had first stepped close. Goddamn, he was a sucker for a goofy ginger who could turn into a seductive wolf in a split second.
"Lead the fucking way."
Mickey froze when his eyes opened because he didn't immediately recognize where he was. Fortunately, he did recognize the redhead sleeping next to him. The night before came back to him – Ubering to Ian's place and… Actually, he couldn't remember much past that. He lifted the sheet to check himself out and saw that he wasn't naked, but he was only in his undershirt and boxers.
Ian made a snuffling sound and then green eyes peered at Mickey as Ian blinked awake.
"Morning Mick," Ian rasped before stretching his long limbs.
"Did we fuck last night?"
Ian laughed. Loud. "You're one of those immediately awake people, huh?" He pushed himself up on an elbow and shook his head. As far as Mickey could tell, Ian appeared to be in a t-shirt and boxers as well. "No, we did not."
Mickey sat up then and glanced around the room. Ian had bedside tables on both sides of his bed. A dresser. Mickey's jeans and sweater were both tossed on a chair in the corner.
"So, uh, about last night, since you don't seem to remember, you looked kinda sleepy when we got up here, so I offered to make you some coffee. But, by the time I brought it to you, you were passed out on the couch. Like, knocked out. I tried to wake you up and offer to get you another Uber to go home, but you knocked my hand away when I tried shaking your shoulder," Ian said with a laugh.
Mickey scrubbed a hand down his face, already feeling embarrassed about where this story was going, which was obviously him forcing Ian to let him spend the night.
"So, then I sorted lifted you into a standing position so you couldn't ignore me anymore and convinced you to walk back here to sleep in a real bed. I've tried to nap on that couch and it's rough. You took your own clothes off, by the way, and threw them over there." Ian nodded towards the chair in the corner that Mickey had already spotted.
"I'm fucking sorry, man," Mickey began an apology, but Ian cut him off.
"Hey, Mickey, you're under a lot of stress right now, with this case. This is not something that everyone would take on – maybe some people would report it if they were approached like you did – but you're really going above and beyond to try to prevent a murder. Add in the alcohol last night and how late it was when we got here and how you mentioned that you haven't been sleeping well and of course you were tired."
Mickey still felt embarrassed, but it was hard to stay that way with how sincere Ian sounded.
"Plus," Ian murmured slowly, pushing himself to sit upright like Mickey, "I like you, Mickey. I've liked you since I first met you."
"Oh," Mickey said quietly.
"So, even if last night ended with you falling asleep early, because being a good guy exhausts you -"
"Man," Mickey complained about the tease with a shove to Ian's shoulder.
"- I still had fun with you last night," Ian finished with a bright grin. "And I'm hoping we can hang out again?"
Mickey rubbed a thumb over his lower lip and Ian's grin grew wider.
"I'll take that as a yes," Ian said, fingers wrapping around Mickey's hand without further explanation of his read on one of Mickey's tells.
"Okay, Detective Gallagher," Mickeys deadpanned with an eyeroll.
"O-kay as in its okay that I said I like you and that I want to hang out more or okay as in you want to hang out with me outside the gym, too?"
Wide hopeful eyes stared at Mickey and Mickey finally allowed himself to grin.
"Okay. To both."
"O-kay," Ian beamed. "For now, I'll leave a spare toothbrush on the bathroom counter for you and then make you breakfast."
"Damn, Gallagher. Keep it up and I'll be moving in," Mickey joked.
Another bright grin from Ian as climbed out of bed.
After Ian left the room, Mickey let himself sit in the warmth of Ian Gallagher's bed and let the last few minutes sink in. Not the worst way to wake up, he grinned to himself.
It wasn't till he was padding out of the bathroom and into the kitchen to rejoin Ian that he thought to dig his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. Thankfully, it hadn't died overnight, but his stomach sank a little when he saw that he had a text from Talia waiting for him.
"Hey, man," he called out for Ian's attention. When Ian approached, he handed him the phone so he could read Talia's request to meet up that morning.
Ian's relaxed and happy face hardened as he quickly read the text. "She wants to meet this morning. I'll drive you over there. I'll have to drop you off a bit before your car, just in case Dr. Penn is with her again – can't let him see me. I'll put some coffee in travel mugs, and I'll call Sue and the team." He already had his own phone in his hand and he was typing away. "They'll need to get down there before us."
Mickey sighed as his relaxing morning slipped away from him. But he did admire this focused Gallagher as much as the soft one he'd woken up with earlier.
"If I pour the coffee," Mickey offered, "can you make the calls while grabbing me a shirt to borrow?"
Ian froze, work persona slipping away as a grin grew on his face. "Okay, yeah," he breathed. But instead of letting Mickey take care of their coffees, he grabbed Mickey's hand and pulled him back into the bedroom and directly to his dresser. He eyed Mickey and then started digging through the drawers before presenting Mickey with an olive-green hoodie.
Mickey pulled on the hoodie and then rolled his eyes at Ian when he saw how wide Ian's grin had grown. "You like seeing someone in your clothes, huh, big guy?" He flapped his hands in the air, full on sweater paws in effect before he pulled the sleeves up to reveal his hands.
Ian stepped forward and pulled Mickey in by his hips. "I like seeing you in my clothes." He leaned in, eyeing Mickey's mouth, but also waiting long enough that Mickey felt like he was being given an out.
"I want to kiss you, Mickey."
Mickey nodded without hesitation and felt his eyes close just as Ian's mouth landed on his own. Mickey had experienced a few awkward kisses in the past, but with Ian, there was no bumping noses or rough presses that resulted in clanking teeth. Ian's soft lips moved perfectly against his own lips, and he slowly lifted a hand to cup the side of Ian's face.
Ian's hands squeezed Mickey's hips and he leaned his weight into Mickey. A pleased sound rolled up Mickey's throat, because although his knees felt slightly weak, he was safely squeezed tight between Ian's warm body and Ian's dresser. He shivered as one of Ian's hands found its way under the hem of his shirt to press long fingers against his skin, and Mickey let the fingers of his other hand wander up into Ian's hair to card through those red strands. Ian deepened the kiss, soft lips pulling at Mickey's bottom lip for a moment before he released it, and when Mickey's mouth fell open with the action, Ian didn't hesitate to slide his tongue into Mickey's mouth.
The kiss only lasted a few seconds longer. A chime from Ian's back pocket had him jumping away.
"Shit, I forgot I already texted Sue to head over there," Ian said, breathless. But he didn't make a move to rush away, instead choosing to leave his weight on Mickey as he stared at Mickey's mouth.
Mickey smirked a bit before one hand fell to push at Ian's shoulder. "Go on."
Ian planted one more quick kiss on Mickey's mouth before he released him and rushed to his closet for a suit for work.
Mickey hid a smile as he returned to the kitchen for their to-go coffees. Ian made his head spin. And had him forgetting about the mess he'd found himself in. For a few minutes, anyway.
"Your car hasn't moved from this spot," Talia noted from where she was casually leaning against his passenger side door.
It wasn't ideal that she'd arrived at his car before him, but Mickey figured he could make it work. He shot her a dirty grin as he unlocked his door. "Didn't go home last night."
He'd finished his coffee in Gallagher's car and left the travel mug behind. The only thing he carried was the sweater he'd worn yesterday, which he tossed in his backseat as Talia slid into the front passenger seat. He quickly started the car to get some heat going.
"What, you pick someone up in the grocery store?" Talia teased, nodding towards the Sav-A-Lot next to them.
"No, bitch, there's a bar not far from here."
"Ooooh, mixing business and pleasure. I like it. Guess you have me to thank," she laughed.
"Not thanking you for shit," Mickey grumbled. "What's up anyway? I gotta get to work soon."
"Okay, okay." Talia pulled an envelope from her purse. "First, I need to know if the money is refundable if he decides not to do it?"
"Jesus Christ," Mickey muttered.
"It's like she's shopping for furniture," Sue criticized from beside Ian in their van.
"Yeah, well let's hope they're not being savvy shoppers and actually asking around for other guys to do the job," Ian replied.
"Yeah, its fucking refundable," Mickey finally replied. Ian had Sue on speakerphone with them on their ride over that morning and both had told Mickey to just respond yes over and over during this meeting. "You know that has a deadline, right? No refund after the job is done?"
"Yeah, obviously, but don't do anything until we say," Talia instructed as she finally handed over the envelope.
Mickey opened it and pulled the cash out far enough that it could be seen on the camera before he stuffed it back inside the envelope. He sighed and tucked the envelope into the pocket of Ian's hoodie.
"You need a ride to work?"
"Nope. My car's here, since you made me come all the way to the South Side again." An eye roll from Talia but Mickey suppressed his own. "Besides, I don't work till this afternoon. I'm heading over to his place now."
"Gross. Get outta my car."
"Sure, says the guy who picked up some South Sider last night," Talia laughed, which grated on Mickey's nerves because even if Talia was picturing some trashy drunk from the local bar and not Ian, Ian was just as South Side as Mickey.
As soon as Talia was out of his car, his phone rang. Ian was talking before he could even say hello.
"Do you really have to go to work?" Ian asked.
"Yeah. She knows that, too. Knows my schedule."
"Shit," Ian cursed.
"What's up?" Mickey asked, a feeling of unease creeping in as he realized Ian was upset. "Thought you were calling me to celebrate or some shit."
The silence on the phone filled Mickey with dread. He focused on the camera planted in his dashboard and raised his eyebrows for Ian to see.
"She handed me money," Mickey insisted, even though he knew Ian and the entire team had to have seen that. "The overt act shit?"
"I'm sorry, Mick," Ian said, voice thick as he stared at the Mickey on the screen in front of him. "We can't charge the bad guy when the last thing they say to you is 'Don't commit the murder yet'."
Ian watched Mickey's eyes shut and his face drop towards his chest.
Ian turned to Sue who sent him a regretful grimace in reply.
"I gotta fucking go," Mickey sighed, eyes still downcast and away from the camera. "Gotta go home and grab my bag and get to work."
Ian nodded even though Mickey couldn't see him. "Talia's already a good distance away. Can you run into the grocery store and pretend to grab something while you pass the envelope to an undercover?"
Mickey sighed again. "Yeah, no problem."
"Thanks, Mick. I'll check on you later?"
Mickey nodded and hung up.
Mickey was sitting at his desk that afternoon, reviewing his schedule for the remainder of the week, when Talia entered the office. She shut the door, not a common practice for anyone who shared their office. Then she locked it.
Mickey pretended not to notice her right away. He leaned back in his seat, picked up his cell phone, and hoped he looked like he was messing around on it. Which… if he couldn't figure out where the record function was… Oh, he found it.
He glanced up at Talia then, who was still standing with her back at the door and raised his eyebrows in question. "I got another client coming for a private session in ten minutes," he told her, nodding towards his work schedule on the screen of the computer.
"Okay, so, there's two guys."
Mickey frowned. Were Talia and Dr. Penn actually shopping around for other possible different hitmen? Was she here to tell him they were going with someone else?
Mickey could feel his heart start to race a bit at the possibility that maybe Mrs. Penn really was in danger.
"They're insurance investigators," Talia continued, "and they're investigating my guy for insurance fraud. He wants to send them a message."
"Talia, what the fuck?" Mickey asked. His head felt like it was spinning a bit. Was he relieved that he was still their go-to for murder? Or pissed that they now wanted him to do something else? Or both?
"I know! I know. But he's always been on the up-and-up, ya know?"
Sure, Mickey thought. All up-and-up guys want their wives killed.
"Like, there's no way he committed insurance fraud."
"So, what does this have to do with me?" Mickey hissed, trying to keep his voice down so no one else in the gym could overhear. "He wants some insurance assholes killed?"
"No! No!" Talia shook her head and waved her hands. "Just roughed up."
Mickey's stomach rolled a bit from the whiplash of this conversation.
"I think if you could take care of those guys for him, he'd trust you. Ya know?"
Mickey let out a breath. "Beat the shit outta some assholes in suits? Easy job."
Talia grinned. "I knew you'd think so. Thanks, Mickey."
"I knew you'd think so. Thanks, Mickey."
"This is fucking ridiculous," Ian stated calmly, despite how outraged his face appeared.
Mickey had refused to sit, so he was pacing Ian's living room while Ian and Sue sat at the kitchen table to listen to Mickey's recording.
"Hey, is your phone recording?" Talia's voice rang out across the room from Mickey's phone.
Ian and Sue's gazes snapped away from the phone and over to Mickey.
Mickey's chuckle was heard next on the recording. "Yeah, cause I'm a real gadget freak, Tal and I would know what fucking buttons would even do that."
Talia laughed along with him. "Yeah, what am I even thinking."
There was the muted sound of a door closing and then some shuffling noises before the recording ended.
"Mickey," Sue said, clearly impressed as she continued, "I know this isn't fun, but you're kind of a natural at it."
"Fucking great," Mickey muttered. He approached the table and landed in a chair. "You told me before to say yes to everything, but what about this? Was I supposed to agree to assault on insurance guys?"
Sue and Ian exchanged a look.
"I'm afraid this will take the focus away from the hit on the wife, but…" Sue started.
"But Dr. Penn is probably testing you to see if he can trust you," Ian finished. "And if he's dealing with insurance fraud, then two birds, one stone."
"I'm going back to the office," Sue announced, rising from her seat. "I'll fill in the chief, Ian. You continue to take good care of Mickey for us."
Ian nodded after her as she let herself out of his apartment but frowned a bit when his focus returned to Mickey and he found him looking pale.
"You like tacos?" Ian asked.
"Who the fuck doesn't like tacos?"
Ian smiled at the grumpy tone. "Go sit on the couch. I'll order dinner."
Mickey scrubbed his hand down his face as he sat on the couch. He grabbed the remote for the TV and turned it on while half watching Ian on his phone over in the kitchen. Ian joined him on the couch a few minutes later, sitting close to him.
Mickey was playing with the remote instead of choosing a streaming service, so Ian gently took it from him and scrolled through some movie options until he found an older Die Hard movie they could both agree on. Not that it seemed Mickey was watching, Ian noted.
Before he could try to coax Mickey into talking to him, Mickey finally asked, "Is this the most batshit case you've ever had?"
"Oh, Mickey, Mickey, Mickey," Ian murmured as he let a large hand drop to Mickey's knee. He leaned in closer, his weight pressing against Mickey's shoulder. It wasn't the predatory wolf gaze of the night before, but a softer expression. "Once we get you out of this," Ian whispered.
He paused and let his eyes travel over Mickey's face until Mickey fidgeted. "What, tough guy?"
"I'm going to do everything in my power to make you forget all about this," Ian finished, eyes on Mickey's lips.
Mickey pushed himself forward and met Ian's lips. The next move was so fast - Ian's hands on Mickey's hips and yanking so that Mickey fell back on the couch and Ian could crawl over him. Ian's tie dangled between them and Mickey used it to tug Ian back to him so he could continue kissing him. Despite the whiplash speed in which he found himself on his back on Ian's couch, the kiss itself started slowly with Ian's lips slotting against his and moving languidly and forcing Mickey to arch upwards to try to get more more more from Ian. He swore he could feel his own heart pound in his chest when Ian licked into his mouth and made his entire body go hot. As stressed as Mickey had felt a moment ago, Ian's weight focused him to just this spot. He once again let his other hand run through Ian's hair and heard little breathy sounds start to escape him and -
A loud knock on Ian's door had them jerk apart - Mickey's head landed on the cushion beneath him and Ian pulled away with a small grin.
"Sorry," Ian whispered. "Tacos."
"Tacos," Mickey exhaled harshly.
Mickey sat up at Ian left the couch and watched the happy redhead meet the delivery man at the door. Then he joined him in the kitchen to grab a couple drinks to bring back to the coffee table where they dug into their tacos.
"You are good at the undercover work," Ian said with a mouth full of taco. "Just so you know."
Mickey took another bite and chewed for a minute. Then he shrugged. "Milkoviches are born and bred to do illegal shit. That's why it comes easy."
Ian nodded in understanding, but his eyes studied Mickey's face. "Comes easy, but. I can see that you don't like doing it."
Mickey fidgeted. Pulled another taco from the bag. "It's not that I don't want to help this lady."
"Is it that you're working with the cops? My older brother and sister couldn't believe it when I ran away – their words – to the police academy. They were really pissed at me, in fact. South Siders don't even talk to cops, let alone become one."
Now it was Mickey's turn to study Ian. He wondered how it was fathomable that Ian could have any self-doubt about his chosen profession, but that was exactly what he'd just heard in Ian's voice. "Must've taken to it, if you made it to detective. Specially at your age. Right?"
Ian nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah. I really threw myself into it. Almost to the point where I wasn't taking care of myself, to be honest. It was just cop shit and justice 24/7 for a while there. Moved up the ladder but burnt myself out. I've got some more work-life balance going on now. Things to do outside of work."
"Like kickboxing."
Ian laughed. "Yeah, kickboxing. And making my hot kickboxing instructor laugh at my dumb jokes."
"Yeah, good luck with that. I hear he's a grumpy asshole."
"Well, grumpy assholes happen to be my favorite."
Mickey shook his head and chuckled, ducking his face away from Ian.
"Would you say you have a favorite kickboxing client?" Ian shouldered him a few times and made his own eyebrows bounce.
"Such a fuckin dork," Mickey laughed, eyes incredibly fond as he watched Ian's eyebrows bounce a few more times on his forehead. "C'mere." He pulled Ian in by his neck and claimed the mouth of his favorite kickboxing student (no way in hell he was ever telling Ian, though). Ian tasted like the spices cooked into their tacos which had Mickey's tongue delving a little deeper.
"Your fucking mouth, Mickey," Ian whispered against his lips a moment later. "Why the fuck have we been kickboxing for that hour all this time?"
"You're not going to fight off bad guys with your tongue skills, Gallagher."
He tried to pull Ian back into a kiss, but Ian practically fell over in his seat, he was laughing so hard.
"I'm sorry," Ian gasped through his actual chortling. "The visuals of that. Me trying to take people down."
Mickey sat back in his seat, still smiling fondly at the ginger idiot next to him. "You finished?"
"No. No." Ian waved his hand around. Lettuce flew off his taco.
Mickey chuckled and went back to eating his taco. He'd kiss Ian again later.
He'd picked a different parking lot this time (and by "he" he meant "the Chicago PD") and he sat tapping away at his steering wheel until he saw the Maserati from last time pull in next to him.
"Hey, Mickey," Talia greeted, friendly as ever, as she slid into his backseat while Dr. Penn sat in his Buick's front passenger seat again. Mickey had the day off work, but they'd had to wait till early evening to meet due to Talia's work schedule.
"Talia," Mickey responded to her with a nod even as he handed over the yellow envelope to the good doctor.
The contents of the envelope were the tricky part this time.
Talia had approached Mickey again in the gym two days ago with some more cash and further details about the insurance agents – including where they could be found – an overt act for beating up insurance guys for hire.
They were still waiting on an overt act for the murder-for-hire plot…
Mickey had been quicker about recording this conversation on his phone and made sure to say he didn't want this to jeopardize their other plan and Talia had assured him it wouldn't. She even said that once this was done, they'd move onto the next plan very quickly. And when Mickey had asked how they'd know it was done, Talia had simply shrugged and said, "Easy. Take pics to show us."
Mickey hadn't seen Ian the next day – yesterday - but Ian had called him last night to say that he and Sue had found the insurance agents and asked if they could take some photos. Mickey respected how seriously Ian handled it. He didn't laugh as he told the story of bringing in a make-up artist to make injuries on the agents look as real as possible. Maybe it'd be a funny story to someone else, but Gallagher relayed the story as the tragic nonsense that it was.
"Seriously, Mick," he'd quietly said into the phone last night. "If it was anyone but you that Talia brought this to, those guys would've had the shit beat out of them for real. They were a little shaken up once they caught sight of themselves in the mirror afterwards. One day, they should know who they have to thank."
Then the photographer had taken almost five hundred photos of the two men. And out of those five hundred, only two had been deemed realistic enough to be stuffed into an envelope and handed over. And that was tricky part today. Had they done enough with those fake injuries to fool a real doctor?
Dr. Penn pulled out the photos and flipped between the two of them. Both men were in both photos, faces "bloodied" as they appeared unconscious on what appeared to be asphalt, likely a parking lot.
"Got em together, huh?" Dr. Penn asked, although his eyes stayed on the photos.
Mickey rubbed his thumb across his eyebrow and Ian froze. "What the fuck did he do?" Ian asked, leaning closer to the screen in their surveillance van that currently displayed Mickey and Dr. Penn.
"Huh?" Sue asked.
"His knuckles are fucking –" Ian's mouth dropped open and he continued to stare at the screen in angered disbelief.
Sue chuckled as she caught on – Mickey's knuckles were bruised. "You've got yourself a smart guy, Ian."
At Mickey's pause, Dr. Penn turned towards him and immediately saw the bruised knuckles.
"Oh." Dr. Penn took Mickey's hand into his own without asking for permission.
Mickey flinched. Ian growled.
"Split the skin in a few places," Dr. Penn noted, closely examining Mickey's hand. "Shouldn't have any permanent damage, though."
"Oh, Mickey," Talia cooed from the backseat.
"I know how to throw a fucking punch," Mickey asserted as he pulled his hand free.
"Well, keep icing it anyways," Dr. Penn advised before slipping the photos back into the envelope and handing it back to Mickey. "Those two should be out of commission for a while." The look on his face was smug, as if the doctor had been the one to lay hands on these guys.
"So, we moving on to the next thing or what? How about this weekend?" Mickey asked. His arms were almost jittery with relief that the doctor found the photos legitimate.
Dr. Penn sighed and studied Mickey before glancing back at Talia. Hand on the door handle, he looked back to Mickey and instructed, "If Talia tells you yes, then it came from me."
Then he nodded as if he'd just sealed a deal, which by now Mickey knew he FUCKING HAD NOT, and pushed the door open so he could get out of Mickey's car and back into his own.
"See ya later, Mickey," Talia said cheerfully as she also exited.
"Technically," Sue said slowly, "that's enough to charge the doc now. But, again, if this goes to a jury, we still want the case to end with Dr. Penn saying, 'Kill my wife' and not 'Keep waiting because I'm an indecisive fuck.'"
Ian nodded absent-mindedly at Sue. He was already texting Mickey to meet them at The Alibi. Then he was out of the van and marching his way towards the bar. He was waiting in the bar's hidden entrance alcove when Mickey came walking in and caught him by surprise as he pushed him against the wall.
"Hey!" Mickey protested.
Ian ignored him. Just grabbed his wrist so he could lift Mickey's hand to see the swollen knuckles in person before glaring furiously at Mickey. "The fuck?"
Mickey's eyebrows lifted in clear offense. "How's he supposed to believe I just beat the shit outta two guys if I don't look like I just beat the shit outta two guys?" Mickey responded angrily as he yanked his hand away.
"You're not supposed to hurt yourself," Ian growled.
Ian's voice was lower than normal. Thick and gruff. Mickey was probably not supposed to be turned on by this, but here he was…
"It's not that big a deal, man."
Mickey's quieter tone seemed to calm Ian. He released a sigh and leaned in closer to Mickey.
"What'd you do?"
"I went a few rounds with the punching bag at the gym yesterday. Just without taping my hands or -"
"Or gloves," Ian finished. He leaned in a little closer and kissed Mickey's temple, feeling safe in their private corner. "I don't like you hurt."
Mickey shivered and then acknowledged him with a jerky nod.
"It was pretty brilliant, though," Ian allowed, moving away.
The Alibi door swung open, and Sue appeared. "Mickey," she said, smiling immediately upon seeing him. "You're a genius. All that time we spent on those photos, and he barely looked at them after he saw your knuckles. Come on, I'll buy you a drink."
"Still can't believe that fuckin worked," Mickey sighed once they were seated with their drinks.
They were in what he deemed to be their usual Alibi booth, although he had been pretty happy when Ian had sat next to him this time instead of across from him with Sue.
"One more meeting should do it, I would think," Sue cheered with a raise of her bottle.
"Yeah, unless they think Mickey is their friendly neighborhood thug who will do whatever they want. Dangle that bigger payout that never comes?"
"Who said I was friendly?" Mickey asked with a sincerely wounded expression.
Ian smiled when out of everything he'd just said, that was what had offended Mickey the most. He let his leg spread till it knocked into the side of Mickey's leg, but frowned when he realized Mickey's leg had been jiggling.
"Ian don't be a pessimist," Sue chastised, digging out her phone. "Oh, gotta take this." Sue pointed her phone towards them before rising from the booth and heading for the exit as she put the phone to her ear.
"You okay?" Ian asked as soon as she was gone.
"Yeah, yeah. Course."
"Mick."
"I think I'd like to get outta here tonight," Mickey finally admitted. "Too fuckin loud."
"Yeah," Ian nodded. "I've got my car here this time, too. You okay to drive? Want to come to my place?"
Ian wished they could've ridden home together, but he was thrilled that Mickey had agreed to come to his. He wanted to spend time with Mickey, but he also didn't want Mickey to be alone right now. It had been a stressful week and Mickey was obviously feeling it.
He waited till they were in his apartment, and he was digging ice cream from his freezer and pulling bowls from his cupboard before he began speaking.
"The first arrest I made as a rookie patrolman," Ian began with a glance to Mickey where he was leaning against the counter next to him, "was this teen girl who was stealing from a corner store. Not makeup or whatever my younger sister would've stolen, though. She had food. Some frozen meals. Milk. Bananas. Felt real shitty putting cuffs on her."
"I'm not sure Milkoviches ever paid for groceries."
"Exactly," Ian nodded. "Gallaghers didn't just steal directly from stores, either. Our neighbor once distracted a delivery truck driver while the rest of us stole shit right out the back of the truck." There was a melancholy smile on his face. "It wasn't until I was cuffing that girl that I really really realized why Fiona and Lip were so pissed that I wanted to be a cop. Like, yeah, I knew before, but that was when I really got it."
He handed Mickey a bowl of ice cream and pointed to the drawer where the silverware could be found.
"And you know, when we were kids, most South Side stores didn't have the cameras and back-room security teams that everyone has today. So unfortunately, there was solid proof that this girl was stealing, and I couldn't ignore it and let her slip out of the cuffs and run off or I'd lose my job."
"So, what did you do?" Mickey asked, sensing that there was more.
"Well, being arrested doesn't always mean the charges will stand, ya know? I spoke to the prosecutor's office. Next thing you know, they're offering her a plea deal. If she volunteered forty hours at a soup kitchen near her address, they'd wipe the incident from her record."
"So instead of jail, you had her sent to a place that would feed her and probably let her bring food home to the rest of her family," Mickey concluded as he led the two of them back to Ian's couch.
Ian turned the TV on and quickly chose a movie to start, more for background noise.
"That's why you were meant to be a fuckin cop, Gallagher."
Ian looked at Mickey with grateful eyes. "Thanks. Although, I'm really just trying to say that – that I get that it doesn't always feel good. When you're brought up one way and then you're an adult and you have to do things differently. Do them the right way."
Mickey settled further into the couch and finished his ice cream. He glanced at Ian a few times and didn't shy away whenever Ian returned the gaze. Finally, after leaving his bowl on Ian's coffee table, he offered, "It's not that I'm uncomfortable because I'm doing the right thing. I know my old man would've never done anything like this. If some chick had asked him to knock someone off for her, he would've grabbed his brothers and disappeared for the night to take care of business."
"Jesus," Ian muttered, letting his bowl join Mickey's on the small table.
"Yeah. He was an asshole. I think I hit twelve and realized I was smarter than him. Wanted to be better than him. Just had to bide my time till I could get out. Ya know?"
Ian nodded at him.
"Saved money till my sister and I could afford to move out. We lived in this real dump at first, a South Side basement. But the old lady upstairs was nice, especially to Mandy. I found a job at the gym, mostly just cleaning shit at first. Mandy was waitressing. Both of us got our GEDs. Then the gym offered to cover my training for a kickboxing certificate."
"Damn," Ian said, clearly impressed.
"Yeah, when I say it like that, it all sounds easy. But we were constantly dodging our pops, brothers, uncles, cousins. Mandy had to quit two jobs because they'd find her. We were both on edge. Even when we were off work and just supposed to be relaxing at home. We'd be practically sitting on the edge of the couch, ya know?"
"Waiting for something bad," Ian said with understanding.
"When I got certified and got the real job at the gym, it was enough money to move us to a West Side apartment. Get us further away from our family. I think Mandy had been waiting for me to make that move for myself, cause that wasn't far enough for her. She got me moved into the new place and then took off."
"You miss her?"
"I want to say no," Mickey replied with a short laugh. "I'm happy we don't still live together. But" – Mickey shrugged – "she does come to visit sometimes, especially now that the old man is dead."
"Do I offer condolences?" Ian asked.
"Nope," Mickey said. "Asshole got shot by a competitor during a gun run. Most of the other Milkoviches scattered afterwards."
"Is that when you finally relaxed? Leaned back into the couch?"
Mickey nodded. But, Ian noted, he also scratched his thumbnail across an eyebrow.
"This case is taking that away from you," Ian decided.
"It's not like I'm even doing any of the things they want me to do -"
"No, don't do that." Ian's hand suddenly squeezed Mickey's shoulder. "Don't discount that the reason you're good at these conversations is because you have to put on your old Milkovich crime skin."
"Gross."
"You know what I mean, jerk." Ian took a chance and scooted closer to Mickey. He wrapped his arm around Mickey's shoulders and pulled the smaller man into his side. "I'm sorry you got caught up in this situation, Mickey," Ian murmured into his dark hair. "I'm sorry it's not over yet."
The quiet side hug lasted longer than Ian would've expected.
"Alright," Mickey finally said, ending the moment with two solid pats to Ian's thigh. "Enough of that. No more talk tonight about…" he waved a hand around trying to find the right words.
"Being crime adjacent?"
"Such a fucking dork, man."
Mickey dipped his head to hide his smile. But Ian cupped one of those giant hands of his around his face and pulled him back up so that he could kiss him. And kiss him. And kiss him. Mickey turned sideways at one point just so he'd have a better angle. He messed up Ian's hair with his hands while Ian pulled him a little closer into his side.
"I've never really just kissed anyone like this before," Ian whispered. "Like, just had make-out sessions."
"Really?" Mickey quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Work always came first, before I tried to insert some balance," Ian said with a shrug. "So, I haven't had any real adult relationships. Fast hookups aren't about kissing and just enjoying time with someone, ya know?"
Mickey ran his fingers through Ian's hair again and nodded.
"What about you?" Ian asked.
"Never really liked kissing that much. Didn't see the point. Not before…" Mickey waved a hand back and forth, trying to indicate Ian.
Ian huffed a slightly shocked breath. "Just make me want to kiss you more." Ian's voice was low again. Deeper. Gruff. But he also appeared in awe.
Mickey's eyebrows shot up and soon he was rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip.
"Everything you say," Ian continued. "The way your eyebrows speak. Your mannerisms" – he wrapped a hand around Mickey's hand and pulled it away from mouth so that he could kiss the back of Mickey's hand. Mickey blushed immediately. "That fact that you're working so hard to help someone you don't even know. The way you look in my clothes. Your fucking mouth when we kiss -"
Mickey surged forward and kissed Ian again. Maybe because he wasn't sure how much more adoration he could handle being thrown his way right now. And he didn't know how to articulate back all the things he was coming to adore about Ian Gallagher in return. So, he kissed him and kissed him until their mouths were red and puffy and Ian joked about getting them more ice cream so they could cool off.
(Dumbest jokes was definitely on Mickey's list of reasons why he liked Ian Gallagher).
Mickey had never had make out sessions with anyone either. He went home that night feeling lighter than he'd felt in a while, all while thinking about how easy everything was with Ian Gallagher.
Ian sighed. "This has to end, Sue. I know it doesn't look like it, but it is taking a toll on Mickey."
"Of course it is, Ian," Sue sympathized. "This sort of thing can give anyone an ulcer. We're almost there. Look." She nodded towards where Talia's car pulled up next to Mickey's.
Talia got out of her own car, but she didn't get into Mickey's this time, just leaned down to look into his passenger window. Mickey rolled that window down and leaned over the console to see her.
"Okay, the answer is this."
Ian and Sue watched one of their other screens, the one connected to the camera aimed at Mickey's car. They could see Talia hold up her phone to show Mickey the screen.
"Oh, that little bitch is good," Sue quipped. "She's keeping the request off any possible audio or video."
"Fuck," Ian growled. He turned his attention back to the Mickey on screen. "C'mon Mick."
"It says yes," Mickey stated clearly. "Yes as in we go ahead and you understand the money isn't refundable anymore?"
Talia nodded.
"Atta boy," Sue whispered.
"Got any more details other than he wants it to look like an accident?"
And Ian's smile slowly spread as he listened to Talia start talking about where Mrs. Penn would be later that day. What her schedule looked like tomorrow. How and when Mickey and his guy will be paid.
Sue started hitting Ian repeatedly on the arm. "She wouldn't be saying all that if the instruction was to not kill Mrs. Penn."
Ian batted away her excited assault on his arm, smile still as wide as it could go. "Yeah, yeah, I got it."
"You still have that picture of her?" Talia asked. "I'm going to send you a pic of her car, too."
Then, after a "Thanks, Mickey!" Talia got back in her own car and drove away.
Mickey's hands were shaking a bit, but he managed to back his car out of his spot and drive back to Ian's place. He parked in a visitor spot in the parking lot, and he didn't have long to wait till he saw Ian's car pull in.
He stepped out of his own car, brows pulled down because he half-feared Ian would say they still didn't have enough for their case. But he was filled with relief at the sight of Ian's giddy grin. And he laughed when Ian fucking ran to him and lifted him off the ground in a hug.
"I know you have your favorite client scheduled tonight, but I suggest you take the day off."
"Monday already?" Mickey muttered. "This has been the longest week."
Ian released him so they could walk up to his apartment. Mickey waited till they were inside before asking, "I gotta do anything else with them?"
"Nope. They're both being picked up today."
"Thank fuck," Mickey sighed. He plopped down on Ian's couch and forced himself to release a deep breath. "Might call out today like you suggested."
Ian grinned and joined Mickey on the couch. "I can play hooky with you for a little while."
"You did all that surveillance work." Mickey frowned as he spoke. "Do you still get credit or whatever if you're not the one picking them up?"
Ian smiled and let his hand drop on top of Mickey's. "Nice of you to worry about it for me," he said quietly. "To be honest, it's better to have someone else pick them up, let them be booked, then Sue and I will go in and see if we can interrogate them. I'm all yours till I get the call to head down there."
Mickey hummed in understanding, eyes pinned the pattern Ian's long finger was trailing over the back of his hand.
"I love that you get to relax finally." Ian squeezed Mickey's hand. "Wanna help get you off the edge of the couch again."
Mickey's fingers skimmed over Ian's jaw, causing a visible shiver that made him feel a bit smug. "Can't believe you just said 'wanna help get you off' without one of your dumb jokes to go with it."
Ian groaned in fake annoyance and leaned over with the intent to kiss Mickey at the same moment that Mickey's fingers found the back of his neck and pulled him in. In response, Ian tugged on the front of Mickey's shirt and Mickey didn't hesitate to climb into Ian's lap, allowing his knees to straddle Ian's hips.
Ian's other hand slid up Mickey's back until his palm flattened between his shoulder blades and he pulled Mickey even closer. There was a pleased grunt from Mickey when their groins made contact.
Mickey pulled away from the kiss a moment later, he had to lean further back than expected when it was clear Ian was going to chase after his lips.
"This okay?" Mickey asked, glancing at the way their laps were pressed so tightly together and thinking about how Ian had previously confided he'd never just kissed anyone before. That he'd always rushed. Maybe the two of them had had a few make out sessions by now, but they'd also only been kissing for less than a week.
When not trying to nail down two people for a murder-for-hire plot.
Ian's hands cupped his face as he smiled softly at Mickey. "You've had a pretty stressful week," he said. "I should be asking you that."
Mickey swallowed and gently ground his hips against Ian's. He listened to Ian's breath stutter while he tried not to react otherwise. All in the name of doing right by Mickey.
"There's a lot of evidence that shows a clear correlation between physical exercise and stress reduction -"
Ian's mouth crashed onto Mickey's. His hands slid under Mickey's thighs and in the next moment, he pushed himself from the couch and headed towards his bedroom while carrying Mickey.
Mickey felt his head spin again. "No fucking way," he gasped, equal parts impressed and turned on. "Gallagher, I've been going way too fucking easy on you at the gym."
Ian was almost unable to kiss back while Mickey tried to kiss him because he was laughing. He threw Mickey onto his bed and quickly shrugged out of his suit jacket.
Mickey couldn't find it within himself to care too much that Talia had been arrested. Ian told him later that she'd asked if Mickey was a cop, to which Mickey had promptly choked on a bite of his dinner.
And he definitely didn't fucking care that the good doctor had been mortified to be arrested. Apparently that asshole had been more worried about whether or not he'd be in the papers the next day and how his arrest was going to affect his medical practice. He didn't express any concern about what his kids would think when they found out their dad tried to have their mom murdered.
But, right this moment, he was doing his best not to be visibly affected by the speech Mrs. Penn was giving as she stood at the podium of this year's police gala, profusely thanking Mickey and the officers who worked tirelessly to keep her safe.
When she indicated that he should join her, he felt Ian's hand squeeze his knee under their white tableclothed table and accepted the half-hug from Mandy on his other side as he stood.
He dipped his head so Mrs. Penn could bestow the Civilian Medal of Appreciation around his neck before she gave him one of the tightest hugs he'd ever received. She had tears running down her face when she pulled away, but she smiled up at him, squeezed his shoulders, and whispered a quiet thank you.
Mickey returned to his seat then, having been assured ahead of time that he didn't have to say anything at the podium when he received his award. He sat in his seat and enjoyed the weight of Ian's hand on his thigh and admired the shiny medal for a moment.
"I bet you could get almost two hundred for it down at Max's pawn shop," Mandy sung in his ear.
Mickey laughed and nudged her away.
"Ian, you want to dance?" Mandy asked. With the speeches and awards part of the gala over, the band, mostly comprised of police officers, had begun to play a slow song.
Mickey glared as he watched other couples head to the dance floor. He was definitely going to find a way to avoid coming to these gala things with Ian in the future.
"Actually, I was hoping I could Mickey to dance with me?"
"Fucking serious?" Mickey practically whined.
Mandy laughed at his expense and shoved his shoulder before she stood and went in search of someone else to dance with.
"Come on, hero." Ian stood and instead of offering his hand to Mickey, he leaned down and yanked Mickey up by his hips. "One dance."
End notes:
Are cops allowed to fraternize with their witnesses? Obviously yes in this universe, or I don't have grounds for a story.
Forgotten on purpose tag: If you are true crime show watcher, like myself, and this murder-for-hire plot sounds familiar, it's because it's based on a very true story of a doctor and his girlfriend who tried to put a hit on the doctor's wife while also requesting that two insurance agents be put out of commission. The guy who helped the cops take them down was a regular citizen who did this very good deed even though it stressed him the hell out. The cops did have a make-up artist who made the insurance agents look like they'd been beaten up so they could have photo proof for the good doctor. (Mickey's bruised knuckles in the story were my own imagination at work, though). The bad couple did force this good guy citizen through MANY meetings before they finally committed the overt act needed to arrest them. And the good guy citizen did receive an award for his hard work.
I saw the episode about this case a long time ago, so while writing I went online searching for a detail I couldn't remember, and as an update to the case, per a June 2023 NY Post article, the doctor was released from prison in 2021 after 4 years (even though he was sentenced to 15) and was just arrested and charged AGAIN in a second attempt to have his wife killed.
So, that real life update sorta ends this on a downer. Maybe leave a comment with something you liked about the story to help spin things back around to you being entertained by reading this (the story, not the end note, lol)