Fake Fan Fiction ❯ FAKE in Love: In Another Life (pt. 1) ❯ Chapter 2

Warnings and Disclaimers: I'm not Sanami Matoh and I'm not making any money from this. This is yaoi and includes adult situations (lemony goodness). Please be forewarned.

 

Detective Randy MacLean sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his face haggard and tired as he stared down at the bloody street. This was his third damn shift in a row, if he didn't get some sleep soon he was going to snap. He sighed again and glanced over.

“What've we got?” he asked flatly.

“A body,” JJ Adams answered. “White man, early thirties.”

“Great,” Randy said tiredly. “Any ID on him?”

“Nope,” Drake Parker, JJ's partner looked up from where he squatted. “Nothing.”

“He looks familiar though,” JJ said as he peered at the body.

“What?” Drake said. “Meet him in a bar?”

JJ scowled irritably and shook his head.

“Look at him.”

Randy knelt down next to him and then sighed heavily as he took his first good look at the man's face.

“Makkel,” Randy said flatly. “Known mob boss. You certainly should recognize him.”

 

“They certainly got here fast,” Dee Laytner said as he watched the flickering lights on the patrol cars.

“They've been taking some heat about slow response time,” Leo Grant answered.

“Sucks to be them,” Dee chuckled. “So that takes care of Makkel. What next?”

“We're meeting with Vones,” Leo said as he lit a cigarette. “I want you there on security.”

“Great,” Dee said with a sigh. “I love my job.”

“Don't bitch,” Leo said.

Dee chuckled again and then his head cocked to one side.

“Who's that?”

“Who's who?”

“That,” Dee pointed across the street at a tall man in a stiff suit with light brown hair.

“He looks like a cop,” Leo answered.

Dee smiled.

“A cop I'd like to meet.”

Leo groaned lowly.

“You've got to be kidding me. Business and pleasure are a dangerous combination.”

“I like dangerous pleasures,” Dee said with a wolfish grin.

 

“Bikky!”

Randy's voice echoed through his apartment as he stepped inside, loud music pounding over him. His head was throbbing angrily and he really wasn't in the mood for this tonight. The music shrunk to normal levels and the young boy met Randy in the kitchen as the brown haired man began to brew some tea.

“Long day at work?” Bikky asked as he sat down at the small kitchen table.

“Long days at work,” Randy grumbled. “I haven't been home in over twenty-four hours.”

Randy paused then and gave Bikky a tired pleading look.

“Please tell me you were well behaved.”

“Of course I was,” Bikky answered defensively. “I got up on time, I went to school, I came home after my study sessions. I did my homework and fed myself. What more could you want?”

Randy sighed and smiled a little.

“Thanks Biks,” he said. “You hungry now?”

“Nah,” Bikky said. “I'm heading out to see Carol. Friday night and all, we'll be in early though, don't worry. Her aunt said it's okay if I want to stay over there, so you'll have plenty of time to sleep.”

“Anything big this weekend?” Randy asked.

“Nope,” Bikky said with a shrug. “Maybe some basketball Sunday morning, but that's about it.”

“What about for school?”

“Well, er…”

Ryo chuckled quietly. “Just make sure you get it done, alright? Let me know if you need any help.”

“Sure, thanks Ryo.”

Randy smiled again. His foster son was the only one that used that name, and sometimes it caught Randy a little off guard. He felt like Ryo and Randy were two different people, one a cop that was steadily growing calloused in the demands of his job and the other a tired man trying to make things as normal and hopeful as he could. He wasn't sure which he most liked being.

“Hey Biks,” Randy said as Bikky grabbed a back pack and turned off the stereo. “Have fun.”

“Thanks Ryo. You know, a twenty might make the night a little more exciting.”

Randy smiled slightly and dug out his wallet.

“I'll spring for ten bucks of excitement, but that's it.”

Bikky snorted laughter but quickly took the offered money.

“Thanks Ryo. Get some sleep, you look like shit.”

Randy gave him a tired smile, too tired to even bother to tell Bikky to watch his mouth. He ruffled a hand through Bikky's hair and Bikky waved as he left. Randy started to sip his tea, but quickly lost interest in it, his body screaming for sleep. He more staggered out of the kitchen and into bed than anything else.

He sunk down into the soft mattress of his parent's old bed and closed his eyes, every part of him slowly relaxing as he began to drift away. The room was dark and getting darker, everything distant and peaceful. Randy smiled and fell asleep.

The phone seemed to know the instant he drifted off and burred loudly to life. He jerked away from sleep, his blurry eyes telling him that it had in fact been several hours not just a few minutes. Not that that was any consolation. He still felt like he could barely move.

Please don't be work, please don't be work, please don't be work…

Randy loved being a cop, but dammit, he needed some time. He wanted to sleep and shower in his own apartment. He wanted to wear clothes that hadn't been crammed in his locker for emergency use. And most of all, he wanted to not think about police work for at least a few hours.

“Hello?” he said warily.

“Detective MacLean?”

Randy's heart sank.

“Yes?”

“I'm sorry to have to call you in,” the voice said. “But we've got a situation and we need another shooter.”

Randy closed his eyes with resignation.

“Alright,” he said tiredly. “What's the address?”

 

Randy MacLean slid on his protective glasses and tugged at his gloves a little as he stared out the window. The `situation' was a meeting between two notorious crime bosses, both of whom seemed intent on extending their fingers out further into New York City. It was impossible to get a bug on them, both were too good, and used jammers to block all electronic signals. Even cell phones conked out if they got too close.

Randy sighed and lifted the rifle he held, staring down through the powerful scope. He was just supposed to observe, a back-up in case things started to go wrong. Randy adjusted his hold and then lowered the gun. It wasn't exactly an exciting job. A radio rested on the desk next to him, a few voices boredly crackling through. Randy sighed again. He wanted to go home and get some rest.

“Don't move.”

Randy stiffened as he felt the unmistakable press of a gun barrel against his temple. A long arm wrapped around him and pulled the rifle from his hold, his hands putting up some resistance. The weapon was tugged away and then the gun pressed harder.

“On your feet, move away from the window.”

Randy stood and moved slowly, cautiously moving around the chair. He was allowed to turn and finally face his new captor. Randy's eyes were narrowed and angry, his mouth a thin line as he stared at the man across from him. He was tall, a little taller than Randy, his eyes a piercing green, his skin a deep olive tone. His hair was wild and black, hanging loosely around a cool attractive face. A slightly surprised look passed over his face and then he gestured with his gun.

“Hands on your head and take three steps back.”

The gun jerked slightly and Randy backed up slowly, his glare never leaving the dark haired man. His captor followed him and then quickly patted him down, nodding a little when he found no more weapons. Now the man sighed and sat down in the chair that Randy had just left, his free hand deftly pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“Who sent you?” he asked as he lit one and slid everything back into his pocket.

“I'm a detective with the NYPD,” Randy answered flatly.

“Yeah,” the dark haired man said. “A cop.”

“Yes.”

The dark haired man leaned back in his seat, boredly staring up at the ceiling.

“I guess this means I can't shoot you,” he said, smiling suddenly.

Randy scowled at him, but this only made the man's grin grow.

“Sit down,” the man said, gesturing to the other chair in the sparse room. “Get comfortable. This won't take long, but you don't need to stand for the whole thing.”

Randy sat down slowly, his eyes still on the gun as he pulled the tinted glasses off, and the dark haired man followed his gaze. He frowned a little and shrugged as he looked back up at Randy.

“Hey, sorry. I'm not planning on shooting you alright? I just spotted you from the street and thought that maybe Vones was planning to play dirty.”

“Vones?” Randy said. “Then you're with the Grant family.”

“You don't recognize me?” the man said with a stunning smile. “What kind of detective are you?”

Randy was silent and the dark haired man picked up the long rifle and inspected it carefully.

“Nice gun,” he said. “You must be pretty good with it too. This is a big deal meeting.”

“Why's that?”

The man chuckled. “Ah, ah, ah, you may have a pretty face, but I'm not going to tell you anything. I'm just going to sit here with you until things are over.”

He glanced out through the window and smiled as he had a perfect view of his boss sitting down to a meeting with Terrance Vones.

“You had a really nice spot here. Did you pick this or did they assign it to you?”

“I picked it,” Randy answered.

“Impressive. What's your name?”

“Detective MacLean.”

“MacLean?” the dark haired man repeated, something glinting across his eyes then he suddenly shrugged. “I was expecting something else, something more, I don't know, Oriental sounding. You got some Asian blood in you?”

Randy's mouth thinned a little. Where was this going?

“Yes, I'm half Japanese.”

“Really?” the dark haired man gave him another smile. “What's your Japanese name?”

Randy's frown darkened. That wasn't a question that you normally heard, not unless it was from someone else with some Japanese heritage. Randy's eyes wandered over the man across from him; no this man looked Italian or Greek maybe, but there was nothing that suggested any Asian traits. He sighed slightly.

“Ryo,” he said finally.

“Ryo,” the other man repeated and then smiled again. “I like it. It suits you.”

“And what's your name?”

Another silky chuckle. “Alright, I'll tell you. But I really am hurt that you don't already know. I'm Dee Laytner.”

The name didn't even raise a flag. Randy stared flatly back at him and Dee sighed.

“You don't work organized crime, do you?”

“No,” Randy answered. “I'm with criminal investigations.”

“Well that's a relief,” Dee said. “Here I thought I was slipping.”

Another glance out the window at the `business' meeting taking place across the street. He glanced over at Randy and then gave him a warning smile. Dee set down his gun and picked up Randy's rifle, easily sighting down into the café across from them.

“Damn,” Dee said. “If I could read lips, I'd know everything that they were saying. You been a sharpshooter for a while?”

“A few years.”

“You ever shoot anyone?”

“Have you?” Randy answered irritably.

Dee gave him a cold smile, one that didn't even brush across his dark gaze and said nothing. He lowered the rifle and picked the handgun up again. The radio crackled suddenly and both stared at it.

“MacLean? You still awake up there? We're not getting anything.”

Dee's eyes weighed heavily on Randy.

“Don't do anything stupid,” he said softly. “Just answer, do you understand Ryo?”

Randy blinked a little at the use of his name, the world seeming to split again between Ryo and Randy, and he nodded slightly. Dee handed him the radio, the gun never moving as his eyes continued to burn into Randy. Randy stared down at the radio and then cautiously spoke into it.

“Yeah I'm awake, Ted,” he answered. “I can see them, but I don't know what they're talking about.”

“I didn't think you would,” Ted answered with a laugh. “Hey, you're not planning anything for your days off are you?”

“Just avoiding work,” Randy answered.

“Smart man,” Ted said. “Keep an eye on things and check in if you see anything weird, okay?”

Like a gangster holding a gun on me?

“Yeah, sure.”

He released the button on the radio and Dee took it back from him, a small smile on his lips again. His eyes continued to trace across Randy's face and the smile grew a little.

“You really do have amazing eyes,” Dee said.

Randy blinked in confusion. What the hell? Dee laughed and leaned forward, his face only inches from Randy's. Randy leaned back, nervousness on his face and Dee's cool smile remained.

“What are you--”

Then Dee's lips were pressing against his, pinning him in the chair as the gun clattered out of his hand. He brushed his fingers through Ryo's hair, his other hand caressing over the long smooth neck. Ryo's hands clamped at his shoulders, first pushing away, but then fisting into the fabric as Dee's tongue brushed over his lips, a small gasp giving him access to Ryo's warm mouth. Dee sank into the kiss, enjoying the wonderful taste and the soft feel of Ryo's body.

Dee pulled back then, open confusion and disbelief in Randy's eyes as he stared up. Dee picked his gun up and brushed his hand through Randy's hair.

“A goodbye kiss,” Dee said and winked. “See you around Detective.”

Randy stared blankly at the wall as Dee strolled out, a cocky grin on his face. The door clicked shut and Randy collapsed back into the chair, a vibrant blush flashing across his cheeks as he pressed one hand over his mouth.

What the hell had just happened?

 

Randy boredly picked up the apartment, his eyes distant and movements robotic as he cleaned. Bikky had disappeared the instant Randy had mentioned house cleaning, and the apartment was quiet and empty now. He had finished his surveillance of the crime family meeting and been briefed about what they believed had happened. He had been numb and silent through it all, speaking only when spoken to, barely moving unless he had to. His colleagues seemed to believe that he was just tired (which he was) but Randy had found himself thinking more and more about his strange meeting with Dee Laytner. Just who the hell was this guy and why had he…

Randy glanced up at the clock and then sighed. He had given Bikky enough time to get to wherever he was going and engross himself in some new project. The boy probably wouldn't be back until late that night. Randy headed into his bedroom and grabbed the files he had brought home. He spread them out over the table, pulled on his glasses, and began to read.

Dee Laytner, suspected right hand man of Leo Grant, suspected hit-man, suspected killer, suspected thief. Had risen steadily through the ranks of the Grant family, and had distinguished himself as a loyal and capable member. The files didn't say much about him, but there were links between him and half a dozen open cases.

Have you?

Randy's smart remark now sounded a little dangerous in his ears. It was pretty obvious that Laytner had. He pulled off his glasses and stared up at the ceiling as he collected his thoughts. Randy sighed and ran a hand down his face, shaking his head slightly as he began to gather the files up. The doorbell rang and he got quickly to his feet.

He opened the door and a stab of annoyance and nervous dread darted through him.

Commissioner Berkeley Rose smiled at him.

Randy wasn't exactly sure about what he had done to make Rose think that he wanted the man's attentions, but whatever it was, it had made Rose a constant presence in his life. The Commissioner stepped inside without waiting for an invitation and Randy was forced to trail after him as the tall blonde man waltzed into his apartment.

“How are you doing Randy?” Rose asked and held out a bottle of wine. “I thought you might like some company tonight, you seemed tense after the meeting.”

“Just tired,” Randy answered. “I planned on getting some more sleep today, that's all.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Rose answered in a way that assured Randy that the Commissioner hadn't heard a word he said.

He was heading for the kitchen to pick up a couple of glasses, Randy scowling irritably. The man was acting like he was a welcome guest. Dammit, couldn't he take the hint? Randy wasn't and would never be interested.

“What's this?” Rose asked as he paused at the table, one hand flipping open the top file.

“Work,” Randy answered with a shrug.

“Laytner,” Rose said and frowned as he glanced back at Randy. “Why are you reading up on him?”

“I, er, spotted him at the meeting today and I didn't recognize him.”

A half-truth was easier to work with than an all out lie. He had filed his report, but he was damned if he was going to tell anyone that Dee Laytner had planted a kiss on him on his way out the door. That was a little tidbit he'd take to the grave. The Chief had already chewed his ass for letting Laytner get the drop on him, he really didn't want to get the same speech from Rose and an extra burst of jealous indignation as well. Rose stared at him, as though contemplating Randy's words heavily, and then sighed. Randy suddenly knew that the Commissioner had already read his report. Rose flipped the folder closed and rested one hand on it.

“Randy, be careful,” Rose said. “Laytner's a hit man, we can't prove anything because he's damn good at what he does, and worst of all, he enjoys it. The bastard likes to toy with people, and he's even better at that.”

Randy stared at Rose and the Commissioner sighed quietly as he set the wine down on the table and moved until he was standing directly in front of Randy. His hands rested lightly on Randy's shoulders and he stared down into deep midnight eyes. He loved Randy's eyes, they were so dark and full, they made him feel like he really could see down into this beautiful man's soul.

“So don't get involved with him,” Rose said softly. “Leave him to the organized crime unit.”

“Did you think I was going to run out and try and arrest him tonight?” Randy asked with a small frown.

“I wouldn't put it past you,” Rose answered with a chuckle.

He leaned forward then, his eyes sparking, and found his lips pressing tightly to the sleeve of Randy's shirt. Rose sighed and Randy gave him an exasperated look.

“Really sir,” Randy said. “I want to sleep today, not play games.”

“I don't want this to be a game,” Rose said, his hands sliding down to rest at Randy's waist.

“Sir…” Randy said tiredly.

“Randy,” Rose breathed and leaned forward to kiss Randy's neck.

Randy shoved him sharply back, blushing furiously as he glared at Rose.

“I think it's time for you to leave now.”

“Very well,” Rose answered and gestured to the wine. “It's a gift. Get some rest, Randy. I'll see you in a couple of days.”

Randy nodded and deftly avoided Rose's last attempt at a quick kiss. The Commissioner left then and Randy sighed as he put the wine in the refrigerator and headed for bed. He really was suddenly only interested in sleeping.