Author Topic: [Alvarez] A Night in the South Pacific [NC 17][FIN]  (Read 2194 times)

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Offline evilgrin

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[Alvarez] A Night in the South Pacific [NC 17][FIN]
« on: Mon, Dec 11, 2006, 01:37 PM »
Author: xxxevilgrinxxx (qwstnevrythg@gmail.com )

Title: A Night in the South Pacific

Fandom: Alvarez original (An OMC from "I Can't Let You Go")

Pairing: not applicable


Rating: NC17  for violence, murder, gunplay, adult themes. For safety's sake, this will apply to ALL chapters. There will be no smut in this fic. There will be references, but references only, to rape, murder, mutilation in places throughout the story. There will be no detailed scenes. (I don't do non-consensual)


Disclaimer: Alvarez and all other characters are my own. I donít own the state of Texas, or the DEA

Summary:Alvarez is a heck of a character, but how did he get that way? How did a young Mexican-American kid from one of the poorer parts of Texas end up with a love for tiki culture and a collection of Hawaiian shirts? How did he do all that and stay a hard-ass?

Archive: fdb,vx

Feedback: Please leave all feedback in this thread. No shreds; I write for joy.

A/N: I don't usually put all this mess on every chapter, but I believe the subject matter is important enough to express the disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter

Copyright © November 2006 xxxevilgrinxxx

Ch 1

I donít belong here.

The dancer sways in time with the music blaring from the speakers, a frantic beat that does nothing to inspire lust in me. Her eyes are glazed over and her pupils are dilated; she doesnít belong here either. Unlike me, she doesnít have a choice. Girls like her never do and thatís what she is, just a girl.

I look up at her and shut out the catcalls and comments of the drunken men around me and just watch her; not her body but her face. She doesnít waste the effort to smile; she knows no one else cares about that. Her bleach blonde hair swings behind her, revealing and then covering again a collection of bruises down her back. I try to shut out how she could have been marked that way but I canít. I canít blot it out after what Iíve already seen.

I donít belong here. Her set is over and the music doesnít so much fade as morph into something else and another girl comes out, the young blond girl disappearing.

Disappearing. Sheíll be gone in a week, two weeks at the most. Sent somewhere else, and somewhere else after that. Loaded into vans like cattle and sold to owners that use them and then pass them on. If theyíre alive to pass on that is. She has a mother, maybe a sister, a brother, family. She has a name. Somewhere. It doesnít matter, sheíll disappear. Maybe a line or two in the back pages of some small town newspaper. ĎHave you seen this woman...í Disappearing.

I throw back the shot of tequila and Carl pours me another, an endless supply of painkiller that never washes it away no matter how much I drink. He had made me a Blue Hawaii when I came in tonight. I didnít ask for it and I donít know where the hell he found the recipe. Danno used to ask for them all the time, this was his favorite place, but Carl would never make them. Just told him to fuck off, drink his tequila, and stop being a pain in the ass. He didnít say a word tonight, just put that drink in front of me and walked away.

It looked out of place here, and it shouldnít have. The South Pacific Lounge was a tiki bar after all, with all of the memorabilia to prove it. None of that mattered, nothing but tequila had been served here in years, no matter how much that crazy fucker asked for it.

I tucked the small paper umbrella into my pocket and made my way back to the john, eying the back door exits farther along the corridor. First things first. The john is filthy, but I already feel filthy just having been in this place, just at having been touched by any of this. Not done yet, Danno, just one more, and then I can tell my wife itís safe to come home again, and I can play with my kids and try to make out that none of this ever happened.

I load the clip in the bathroom stall and replace the gun in the holster at the small of my back. Dannoís favorite shirt, deep blue with tropical fish all over it, covers the bulge in the back nicely.

I stare at the face in the mirror as it stares back at me. Everything changed so fast. Just a few days ago I was Agent Gung Ho and now I look more like Agent Don Ho. I havenít shaved since it happened and every time I look at the mirror all I see is Danno looking back at me. Maybe I can let him rest soon, just one last thing to do, just one more, and then itís done for me.

Tucking Dannoís shades into my pocket I leave the john, eying the corridor but itís empty. I slip out the back along the side of the building. Three windows down and then thereís the one thatís barred. Where they keep the girls. The excuse first made was that it kept the girls safe from people outside, but the game had gone on too far and I donít fall for that bullshit. It was to keep the girls from escaping.

The black van squatted in the shadow of a dumpster and waited. The driver took a deep drag on his cigarette, and I gritted my teeth. One more Iíd have to take care of.

I could hear the girl crying even before the door opened, begging for them to please not hurt her anymore, that she would be good, and not to take her anywhere else. I crouched and waited until the two men had her halfway towards the now open back door of the van and the door to the club had slammed behind them before I stepped out of the shadows.

It was the young blond that I had just watched dance not that long ago. My heart twisted when I saw the blood run down her legs, and the cut on her lip. I raised my hands and advanced, playing the dumb drunk for all I was worth.

The girl renewed her struggles when one of the men let her go and stepped towards me. ďYouíre supposed to be dead...Ē His stupid brutish face looked confused.

I was supposed to be dead, after all, Danno was supposed to be dead, but I walked now. ďThis one ainít for Danno anymore you fuckers. This oneís mine.Ē

The silencer muffled the gunshot to a faint whift, and I swung the weapon in an arc to shoot the other two men. ďThis one is for Ramon Alvarez.Ē

The girl cringed naked in the dirt and mud of the alleyway as I strode towards her and picked her up without missing a beat. She shuddered and pleaded with me but I didnít have time to explain right now, there was only time to pull her to the car further down the alley and get her in.

I jumped into the drivers side and reached back to find the blanket I kept on the back seat. The kids couldnít sleep in the car without it. Now it covered the naked and bleeding girl that I had just killed three men to rescue.

ďWhere do you live?Ē She was terrified but there wasnít much I could do about it at the moment.

She stuttered and her breath hitched with a sob. ďI donít....I donít have any...Ē

I didnít think she had a place to live now, thatís how it always happened, thatís how they ended up where they were. ďWhere did you live before?Ē

She looked at me with a sort of wonder, still hurt, still terrified, but with the glimmer that what was happening now wasnít what had happened before. ďI lived in Kansas.Ē Her head hung in shame at how far she had come.

ďYouíre going home, Miss Kansas. You donít belong here.Ē
« Last Edit: Wed, May 02, 2007, 11:20 AM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline Silsin

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« Reply #1 on: Mon, Dec 11, 2006, 02:12 PM »
:clap
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by silsin »

There is no reason not to follow your heart! Steve Jobs

Offline Laquapics

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« Reply #2 on: Mon, Dec 11, 2006, 02:18 PM »
dark story hun, as always well written.  Do you havea schitzo personality? Cause seeing all these wonderful written stories, all involved all so detailed, written in the way that only a writer living in them can write, you must have a very varied life lol  Love it hun
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by Laquapics »

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #3 on: Mon, Dec 11, 2006, 02:25 PM »
Alvarez got right into my wrinkly brain and this was the only ways to get him out.
I'll have to ask everyone else in my head before I can answer, Laqua. The last time I fielded that one on my own, I heard about it for days...stupid voices...
Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline DragonFire

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« Reply #4 on: Mon, Dec 11, 2006, 06:21 PM »
Excellent story.  I love Alvarez.  Very well done!  I loved it!   :rock
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by DragonFire »

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #5 on: Mon, Dec 11, 2006, 06:30 PM »
I'll post more in a week :)
Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline Domino

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« Reply #6 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 05:24 AM »
Okay actually I don't know your Alvarez character yet..... :kiss
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by Domino »

Thanks to Peter, you're a treasure.

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #7 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 05:28 AM »
Alvarez originally appeared as an OMC in a Sean Vetter fic (I Can't Let You Go)
you don't need to read it to understand this character, there's no references at all to that story, and this is actually a prequel of sorts, about how he ended up the bad ass motherfucker he turned out to be (with an explanation for those crazy shirts)
ICLYG is a LOOOONNNG story, so I wouldn't worry about it. This is shorter and more contained.
as it's not really a main stream character, I'm leaving it a little longer than I normally would between chapters, so there'll be another one in about a week
glad yer here :)
Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline Silsin

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« Reply #8 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 06:23 AM »
Maus - if you have some spare time - read 'I can't let you go' - you'll love it!
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by silsin »

There is no reason not to follow your heart! Steve Jobs

Offline Domino

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« Reply #9 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 06:49 AM »
Quote from: "silsin"
Maus - if you have some spare time - read 'I can't let you go' - you'll love it!



Will do, but it's probably gonna take a while before I get to it. And I'm sure I'll love it. No doubt!

VM
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by Domino »

Thanks to Peter, you're a treasure.

Offline njrd

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Re: Chapter 1
« Reply #10 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 10:04 AM »
:)


Quote
I donít belong here.


It's something Alvarez keeps saying over and over. But there he is because he has no other choice.

Quote
Not done yet, Danno, just one more, and then I can tell my wife itís safe to come home again, and I can play with my kids and try to make out that none of this ever happened.


That's not gonna happen, but I suspect he already knows that. Alvarez has been touched already and he won't be the same. Not anymore.

Quote
ďThis one ainít for Danno anymore you fuckers. This oneís mine.Ē
ďThis one is for Ramon Alvarez.Ē



I love how he involved himself that much, not only making himself pass for Danno, but going as far as it took for him to go. I wonder if he will be able to be the same after everything.

Love it, Evil. Absolutely amazing. I'll wait for a week because I know you're going to really get me with this one. I was missing those Hawaiian shirts. hahaha.
 :kiss
((Huge hugs))
NJ
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by njrd »


Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #11 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 10:07 AM »
heehee, hello NJ, this is going to be fun :)
Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline njrd

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« Reply #12 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 10:09 AM »
I know, love. I'm so happy you decided to post it!
 :yieppiehh
Love you!
NJ
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by njrd »


Offline rascalsbaby

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« Reply #13 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 06:58 PM »
You already know what I think of this story. *Wink*

In reading chapter, the drink with the little umbrella really hit me. Alvarez was right, it was totally out of place and shouldn't have been.

Awsome Honey!
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by rascalsbaby »

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #14 on: Tue, Dec 12, 2006, 07:02 PM »
njrd...huge hugs :)

rascalsbaby...yep, that place should have been full of umbrella drinks, but nope

Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline evilgrin

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Ch2
« Reply #15 on: Thu, Dec 14, 2006, 06:40 AM »
Rating: NC17  for violence, murder, gunplay, adult themes. For safety's sake, this will apply to ALL chapters. There will be no smut in this fic. There will be references, but references only, to rape, murder, mutilation in places throughout the story. There will be no detailed scenes. (I don't do non-consensual)

Copyright © November 2006 xxxevilgrinxxx

Ch2

Warily I eyed the stain on Dannoís couch and declined to sit down. I just had this suit dry cleaned and I had no idea what that stain was but it looked faintly biological to me. Given what I had seen so far of my partnersí tastes I thought it would be safer to just stand.

I took in the rest of his apartment; itís never really changed much in the six months or so that weíve shared a desk. Sometimes it was messier and sometimes it was cleaner. The quintessential bachelor. He keeps his desk the same way, a mess of papers and files that I couldnít begin to make sense of. It works for him somehow.

The sound of running water comes from the small bathroom and I donít have to be in there to know that itís ice cold, to help clear his head. ďDid you bring joe with you today? My headís going to explode.Ē A moan follows it, as though it hurt to speak. It probably did.

I stepped over a lone womanís shoe, wondering for a moment what she went home in, and what kind of state she was in that she would forget a shoe. Probably the same state my partner was in. I made my way back down the hall, past the open door of his bedroom. I swore to myself that I wouldnít look, but itís like a car wreck, a raging house fire in the middle of the night and I look anyway. Bedding thrown all over the floor, a woman still asleep spread eagle in his bed, completely nude. Snoring loudly and looking like my partner sounded. Both her shoes were there, she wore one and I guessed that she fell asleep in it. Three shoes, which means at least two women, not counting however many managed to make it home with both of their shoes. I jam my eyes shut at the mess of used condoms on the floor; itís too early in the morning to see that shit. I hand him his cup of coffee around the bathroom door; his hand shakes a little before he takes it.

I take a sip of my own before I put it down and lean in towards the mirror on the door and adjust my tie, picking a piece of something unidentifiable off it. Daniel Jamieson, to be forever known to me as Danno, peeks around the door, resplendent in a black Hawaiian shirt with bright orange parrots, and shakes his head at me. ďWhen are you going to ditch those penguin suits Daddy-o, wear something with a little style?Ē

He drags out the last syllable and breaks into a boyish grin. A little style. At least the shirt heís wearing today is black, mostly, so itís a little easier to focus. ďDoesnít that shirt hurt your eyes, Danno?Ē He grins at me, his black Irish face crinkled at the corners and full of a mad inner glee I canít understand. Reaching back into the bathroom he pulls his shades off the counter and slips them on. Even this he does with flair, a flourish I couldnít see any other man pulling off, but it works for him. Elvis shades.

I look for a moment at our two reflections caught in the mirror, side by side. We couldnít look more like polar opposites. Danno in his Hawaiian shirt and Elvis shades, low slung cargo pants that leave part of his belly out just at the top of his pants, and high top sneakers. I donít know when he last combed his hair, maybe last night before however many women he had in here messed it up for him. For all I know he styles it to look like that.

And me, Ramon Alvarez. Black suit, black tie, white shirt. Short neat hair. He calls me a square, says I should lighten up, live a little. That Iím hiding all my style and grace. He bought me a shirt once but Iíve never worn it, I didnít even take it out of its wrapper. I thought that would offend him but he laughs every time he brings it up. A private joke for him. He does that a lot Iíve noticed; heíll find the one thing that will drive you insane, and then he will pick up a trinket here and there and just give it to you. That same glint of madness in his eyes as he does it.

He found out when we were first partnered together at the DEAís EPIC, the El Paso Intelligence Centre, that his tikis creeped me out. I grew up in a very religious Catholic family. Maybe not all of the religion took hold in me when I grew up, but I guess enough did. Enough that sitting down to drink my coffee in the morning and seeing a black tiki sitting beside my files made me jump. Now I have five of them. He lines them up along the edge of my desk; they stay on there with double sided tape after I knocked them all off one day. He doesnít tell me heís getting them for me; they just show up there. I havenít told him and I donít intend to, but theyíre starting to grow on me, those tikis.

Danno throws back the rest of his cup of coffee and shakes his head until he makes a sound like the one dogs make when they do that; the spark is back in his eyes again. ďAre we going to the morgue this morning Ramon?Ē

ďAlvarez. And yes, weíre going this morning. Peters said heís got something interesting.Ē Peters and I go way back, even before I was with the DEA. It was a grade nine career day thing, when people from all sorts of different professions would set up these tables in the school gym and all the students would wander around. Most of the time you didnít say anything, you kept your hands in your pockets and tried not to touch anything. I was just a kid but I knew to look at these people that they werenít the type to hire Latino kids from some poor Catholic school in the poorest section of El Paso.

I had walked by his table once and then circled around for another look. Peters didnít give me that move along wetback look, the man looked on. Like he was waiting for someone to ask him questions. Iíve been asking him questions ever since. Heís the head coroner now. I used to go to ask him questions, and then he would ask me questions. Sometimes it was DEA related but it wasnít always. Sometimes he would get a string of cases that nobody else was looking at and ask me if I was seeing the same things he was seeing.

As I moved on in the DEA and established more contacts with people in other departments, with informants and the like, I started to find different ways to pass some of those things on to people that should know about them. It felt good to do the right thing sometimes, even if no one ever got to know about it. Maybe especially because no one else would ever know about it. It wasnít about my career, it wasnít the job. It felt right to do that, to help when I could, even if it was a small thing.

I waited a full month before I took Danno to the morgue with me; itís a hard thing to explain to a guy, to pick up your danish and go to the morgue. Maybe watch an autopsy. Danno had just given me the first tiki for my desk and I think I wanted a little revenge. He handled it better than I thought he would; a little green around the gills when we got out and he didnít eat anything until way after lunch but I saw the lights go on. He even impressed Peters, and that doesnít happen everyday. Now we both go, when Peters gives me a call.

ďDid he say what it was this morning? A floater, fuck Ra...Alvarez, I hate the floaters.Ē It happens more often than youíd think. Maybe itís weird to live in a desert and have people drown. Thereís a river that runs along the border of the US and Mexico, between El Paso and Cuidad Juarez. When rainy season hits, the floaters would start to show up. Finally made it into the US to end up on a slab.

ďThey found another woman.Ē I didnít need to say anymore. Six women had been found so far, all brutally raped. The latest had been mutilated. All of the joviality went out of Danno in a heartbeat. He was all Danny Jamieson now; the Elvis shades came off, the topic too serious for the King.

He opened his mouth as though he needed to say something and couldnít. Danno had very liberal tastes with women, he was a hedonist, but he loved all of them. He just loved too many women at once to be a good man to just one of them at a time. I watched him take every one of those killings very personally. I had wanted to stop going back to the morgue and had even told myself that I would but we were both what we were, and when Peters called we went. It wasnít just our morbid fascinations that kept us going back to Peters, we had established something more. There were times when we were the only ones that got information where it needed to go. So we went.

I glanced back at the snoring girl sprawled on his bed and the smile came back to his face. He grinned, a soft wistful smile. ďLet her sleep it off, Alvarez, sheís a tired, very tired, happy girl.Ē He looked back at the door and his face hardened again. ďLetís do this.Ē
« Last Edit: Wed, May 02, 2007, 11:21 AM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline Domino

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« Reply #16 on: Thu, Dec 14, 2006, 07:32 AM »
Damn, I really love this. Thought it would be hard to get into not having read your previous story. But what can I say? This is fun!

I loved the description of Danno through Ramon's (ooops Alvarez's eyes). And the thing with the Morgue was great, just great, no other words for that.

You know you got me hooked. So keep going.

Huggles
TINA
 :kiss
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by Domino »

Thanks to Peter, you're a treasure.

Offline DragonFire

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« Reply #17 on: Thu, Dec 14, 2006, 11:34 AM »
This was great, Elaine.  This just keeps getting better.   :rock
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by DragonFire »

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #18 on: Thu, Dec 14, 2006, 11:37 AM »
thank you both :)
Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline rascalsbaby

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« Reply #19 on: Fri, Dec 15, 2006, 06:03 PM »
So many personality differences, yet at heart they are the same -- dedicated, concerned, cops.
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by rascalsbaby »

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Re: Chapter 2
« Reply #20 on: Sat, Dec 16, 2006, 09:36 AM »
I can't help it, Evil and during the scene with the coffee my minds went back to a very similar scene between Sean and Alvarez. His comments about Danno's Hawaiian shirts and how it hurts his eyes just looking at them and Danno telling him he should enjoy life a little more. It brought a lot of really good memories to me from "I can't let you go". It is amazing to read how much Alvarez changed after Danno's dead and I'm sure Danno would have been proud of him if he could see him now.

Alvarez really likes Danno and he respects his partner so much that it really hurts when you read Alvarez thinking about Danno. I agree with rascalsbaby, they both are like night and day, but deep down they are exactly the same.

Love it!!
NJ
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by njrd »


Offline rascalsbaby

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« Reply #21 on: Sat, Dec 16, 2006, 09:43 AM »
I'm the same way, Njrd. I am reading this as the forerunner of "I Can't Let You Go." It's really cool watching Alvarez "develop" into the man he was in that one.
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by rascalsbaby »

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #22 on: Sat, Dec 16, 2006, 09:57 AM »
it's funny, because Sean felt the same way about Alvarez wearing those same damned shirts.I remember laughing about that as I wrote it
Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #23 on: Mon, Dec 18, 2006, 09:36 AM »
Rating: NC17  for violence, murder, gunplay, adult themes. For safety's sake, this will apply to ALL chapters. There will be no smut in this fic. There will be references, but references only, to rape, murder, mutilation in places throughout the story. There will be no detailed scenes. (I don't do non-consensual)

Copyright © November 2006 xxxevilgrinxxx


Ch 3

ďWhy the fuck would anyone want to do that to a woman, Alvarez. I just donít understand that.Ē Danno stared out of the window as we drove down the back alley towards the morgue. The rain had started early this year and the sky was grey and dark already. Rain spattered against the windshield.

He had been quiet on the drive over, his face set hard. Every one of these cases got to him and nothing I could say would change the way he looked at it. I had my Adriana and the two boys to go home to, something to live for. Miguel, my oldest, was four and little Sandro was barely two. My work never touched them and I wouldnít let it. They were my light and my life.

Danno didnít really have anybody, not anybody steady anyway. We had talked about that but Danno was never really ready to commit to someone. There was a time for a couple of weeks when his apartment was neater that I thought he might have been seeing somebody but he never really said anything to me about it. He looked happy but I knew Danno too well; he could never stay with just one woman, and I couldnít imagine any woman would put up with that for very long.

I looked at him as he stared blindly out the window. ďWould you really want to understand why a man would do that, Danno? I canít understand it either; I donít really want to understand it, because if I do it makes me like them. Just a little and Iíd rather kill myself.Ē

He nods absently and chews on his knuckle, staring out the window into the rain. I should have stopped. Right there I should have stopped and turned around and went back, but I didnít. I couldnít, neither of us could. It had gone too far for that.

Even Peters looked stern and grey, as though the darkness from outside had crept in here. The fluorescent light couldnít touch it. The body lay out on the cold steel table, covered in a white sheet. It all looked so sterile that sometimes it was hard to come to terms that there was a real person under there. I had grown used to seeing them, in the years I had been coming to visit Peters, but this was still the hardest thing for me. To look at that body covered in a sheet, sometimes the only dignity the dead had left.

I looked over at Danno, his face intent as he looked down at the covered body, and turned to Peters. ďWhere did they find her?Ē I wanted to get as much information as I could before we took a look. Sometimes it was hard to think clearly, to remember what you wanted to ask, when you looked death in the face. At all the things one person could do to another.

ďShe was found in much the same way as the other six. She was dumped in an abandoned warehouse close to the border. A security guard walked by and his dog alerted him.Ē Peters spilled out the details succinctly, clinically. The security guard would have been checked out of course, this went without saying. The warehouses down there had been abandoned for years. When companies found it was cheaper to manufacture elsewhere they moved out, and left the moldering rusted out hulks of their factories and warehouses to the drug dealers, the gangs.

I asked the basics; how long she had been dead for. Identifying marks, not just tattoos and scars, but also marks that would identify the weapon used which might give a clue as to the killerís identity. Nothing. Nothing but a cruelty I didnít want to fathom. She had been alive this time; she had been tortured before death. The others had been killed first and then mutilated. The killer, or killers, were escalating. Every couple of weeks there was another death, and every one of them got worse.

Peters had seen a lot in his time, his face was professional and cold, but he couldnít hide from me, I had known him too long. If this was nothing he wouldnít have called me. He wanted me to know about this, he needed me to, so that something would be done to make it stop.

Danno hadnít moved. If I thought it was possible Iíd say he hadnít breathed. Peters moved up towards the head of the table and reached out to straighten the sheet a little. He did the same thing every time. The dead didnít care, but Peters did. He would adjust the edge of the sheet before he lowered it respectfully, only as far as the neck. He never pulled the sheet all of the way off, if it was a woman. Even in death he treated them with dignity, as if he made up in whatever way he could for how they ended up here.

She would have been a pretty girl, once. A small oval face with a clear olive complexion; everything about her was delicate and well defined. If she was alive she would be considered cute, and pretty, but never beautiful. Peters had pulled her black hair back gently when he had washed her and it lay curled against the side of her neck to partially cover the bruises there. Peters would have done that on purpose. Her eyes were closed of course but if I had to guess I would say they were brown.

Dannoís knuckles cracked loudly, the only sound in the silent room, and I looked up towards Danno on the other side of the steel table. His knuckles were white, his hands in fists as he looked down at the girl on the table.

I should have stopped the car before we got here, should have just turned around. But I didnít. Danno was crying. He didnít sob or break down; he stood and silently wept, as he looked down at her face. I had never seen him so affected before, and then it dawned on me. He knew her. He knew this girl that lay before us, dead now.

ďDanno...Ē I called out to him, the sound sharp in the room. He looked up at me, and I saw just how young he was, how young we both were then. He had seen a lot, maybe more than a lot of people, but he was only twenty six, just a little younger than me. I wondered how well he knew the woman and found that I really didnít want to know the answer; I didnít want to be told because I already knew.

There were so many women, and he loved every single one of them, just not enough to love just one. Except for that short time when his apartment was cleaner and he looked happier, more content.

His voice broke in a strangled sound that he fought back with a muttered Ďfuckí that came out as a short bark. He spun and ran from the room, the door to the autopsy bay slammed hard against the wall and echoed in the room.

I wanted to go after him, but I had to know how bad this was, because I knew I would never bring Danno back here, not ever. Peters knew it too. He waited until he was sure that Danno was gone before he pulled the sheet back. Gorge rose and I fought it back, before I closed my eyes, her image still imprinted on my lids. Probably forever.

I should have left when Danno ran. I should have gone after him. Maybe I should have ignored my phone altogether that day and stayed home. I drove for an hour and couldnít find him anywhere. I waited at his apartment for another two hours. He was gone.

Three days later he showed up again, when I got another call.
« Last Edit: Wed, May 02, 2007, 11:22 AM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline njrd

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Re: Chapter 3
« Reply #24 on: Mon, Dec 18, 2006, 10:08 AM »
Damn!

Quote
I should have stopped. Right there I should have stopped and turned around and went back, but I didnít. I couldnít, neither of us could. It had gone too far for that.
I should have stopped the car before we got here, should have just turned around. But I didnít.

Quote
I should have left when Danno ran. I should have gone after him. Maybe I should have ignored my phone altogether that day and stayed home.


He couldn't figure out. There was no way he could anticipate what's going to happen. Damnit!

Quote
Danno was crying. He didnít sob or break down; he stood and silently wept, as he looked down at her face. I had never seen him so affected before, and then it dawned on me. He knew her. He knew this girl that lay before us, dead now.


Poor Danno.  :(

Love it, Evil!! You made me cry again, woman...

 :kiss
NJ
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by njrd »


Offline DragonFire

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« Reply #25 on: Mon, Dec 18, 2006, 01:40 PM »
Awesome chapter, Elaine!!  Poor Danno, I feel for him.  This is a great story! :rock
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by DragonFire »

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« Reply #26 on: Mon, Dec 18, 2006, 05:05 PM »
Reading this makes me feel all tingly. I worry about Danno. I worry about Alvarez. I even worry about Peters. They are these hardened cops who are quite shaken up by these dead girls. Danno wants to know WHY. Alvarez wants to stop it. Peters wants to stop seeing them on his table.

Nicely done, woman.
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by rascalsbaby »

Offline evilgrin

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« Reply #27 on: Mon, Dec 18, 2006, 05:12 PM »
njrd...no, there was no way for him to know how it would end up, he just didn't have that kind of experience yet.
Danno...sigh......I hate myself for it, but it's one of those have to kinda things
mwahahhaha, my Kleenex stock just jumped another point :hugs

rascalsbaby...that's it exactly. They see crap that lots of people would just love to sweep under the rug. This is one of those things that defines Alvarez, to do those things that others would overlook as unimportant. And he's not alone in it, but it's hard, no matter how hard you are

thanks to all who are reading and leaving feedy on my strange little story :)
Elaine:)
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline evilgrin

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Ch 4
« Reply #28 on: Wed, Dec 20, 2006, 08:37 AM »
Rating: NC17  for violence, murder, gunplay, adult themes. For safety's sake, this will apply to ALL chapters. There will be no smut in this fic. There will be references, but references only, to rape, murder, mutilation in places

Copyright © November 2006 xxxevilgrinxxx

Ch 4

We were partners, and we shared some things. You canít help that when you spend so much time with another person. The key to his apartment was neatly labeled amidst my other keys; it was the first time I had ever used it. It felt strange to stand out in the hall of his apartment building. I felt like a trespasser.

His apartment felt colder without him there, and I checked to see if he was there. Out on the balcony, the bedroom. I even checked the bathroom, but he wasnít there. I didnít want to admit to myself what I was doing there, that I didnít come here expecting to find him at all. That I came here to go through his things and find out where he would go.

I walked through his apartment again before I started snooping. His place really looked no different than it did when we left it this morning. The girl had gone home at some point. Any other day, any other circumstance, I would say that maybe Danno had gone back to the girlsí place with her but I donít think thatís the case today. Women couldnít help him with this.

I looked through his cupboards and his drawers, the fridge. There were a few take out menus, Chinese food mostly, and lots of girlís numbers on the fridge. Stuck on with bits of tape. Some of them looked old, and it made me sad somehow to look at them. All of them were local numbers, with the same prefix. That probably didnít mean too much either.

I moved into the living room, and took note of the mess that was there from this morning. From last night. Chinese food leftovers, alcohol, and strangely, half of a pineapple. Why that got to me I donít know, maybe just because it was so much like him. I didnít want to think that I may have to clean this up soon, in case Danno didnít show up, that it would start to stink. It had only been an hour or so after all, I still had hope.

Bar coasters on the table, all from a place called the South Pacific Lounge. They were blue and had some crazy Hawaiian theme on them. The address was listed at the bottom, and I had to go through a few of them to find one with a complete address, the rest were so badly stained that I couldnít read them. It sounded like a place that Danno would go to. I had never been.

I looked around the room and realized that despite the fact that we were partners, we didnít really know a lot about each other. I had never taken him home; he had never met my wife and my kids. We had talked about so much except for what really mattered to us both. It made me think of the girl at the morgue. He had known her, and she had mattered to him. And I didnít really know. I guessed at it, his clean apartment. But I never asked, and now I would give anything to ask those questions.

I got up off the couch and went to check the bedroom; I knew thatís where he would have left anything that really mattered. Anything about the girl he would have kept private, if she mattered to him. I kicked a sheet over the litter of used condoms on the floor and looked over his bedroom. Bed, dresser, nightstand, lamp, closet. It was a small room and there werenít a lot of places to look. Tee shirts, socks, chinos. He had a couple of suits in his closet that looked as though they hadnít been worn for a very long time. Lots of Hawaiian shirts, more of those than anything else.

I pulled down the boxes in the top of the closet. I didnít really expect to find anything recent in there; they were covered in dust, but I set them on the bed anyway. Photo albums, paperwork and old tax receipts. All the things that we box up and carry with us wherever we go, never really thinking too much about them. About what people will think of them when they take them down and open them up. I would go through them later. There would be a later; I knew it even then, even if I didnít want to accept it.

I dreaded checking out his nightstand, I didnít really want to see what he kept in there. Then I looked down and saw that Danno kept his supplies in a container he kept under his bed and it made it easier, and harder, to open the nightstand drawer and pull out its contents.

It was a small stack of papers, and some photos, and a few pieces of jewellery. Stuff women would buy for him. I spread everything out across a clean spot on the bed, and saw her photo first. It was hard to look at her, alive, vibrant, laughing. She sat on Dannoís lap, and I guess someone was there to take the picture. A Polaroid shot, one of those deals where you pay someone to take your picture.

She wore a revealing outfit and there was part of a drink tray in the picture. I assumed she was a waitress. Sexist of me maybe, but that didnít make me wrong. I looked a little closer at the picture, up to the light, and found the same square shape, the same blue color of the coasters Danno had out front. I couldnít see much else in the picture, but Iíd have to guess that the photo was taken at the South Pacific Lounge. I made a note to check that out.

There were a few more photos of the girl, but no more that had her and Danno together. In one she stood in front of a scrollwork screen door, that same smile as she grinned out of the photo at me. She was a cute girl. A regular photo this time, I turned it over, and recognized Dannoís neat block letters. ĎAnna Maria Velasquezí, with ĎAmyí written above it. I guessed Amy was a pet name for her, from the letters of her first two names.

The woman was listed as a Jane Doe at the morgue. She would have to stay one a little longer, until I found out how all of this tied together. She wrote him letters in broken English, but I couldnít read them. It was still too close, and I couldnít do it, not just yet. I scanned it quickly for an address but there was nothing.

She had meant enough for him to change, even for a little while, to make him happy. To make him run. It seemed like so little to be left, it fit in the pocket of my suit. There wasnít much else here; Danno hadnít really lived here that long, a little over six months. All he had were these few things.

I had the girlsí name, and the name of a bar. A list of womenís phone numbers with the same prefix. A picture of a screen door. Not a hell of a lot for me to go on.

I wanted to check out that club, do a run on Velasquez. What I dreaded was going down to the office. I didnít think Danno would show up there, but if he wasnít going to show up, someone had to know about it.

I locked the door carefully behind me, and stood out in the hallway for a few minutes. I didnít want to tell myself that I was waiting for him to come home right then, so I didnít say it. It was hard to walk back to my car and drive to the office.

It was harder coming back three days later, when he turned up dead.
« Last Edit: Wed, May 02, 2007, 11:22 AM by evilgrin »

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It was a rainy night in the big city. A hard rain. Hard enough to wash the scum off the streets. And I'm stuck in it without an umbrella. What a tool.

Offline njrd

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Re: Chapter 4
« Reply #29 on: Wed, Dec 20, 2006, 01:01 PM »
It feels a little weird to be walking around Danno's apartment, searching between his things. I was there with Alvarez all the time while he kept saying to himself Danno was going to be back, not wanting to give credit to his own suspicions. *Sighs*

Quote
It was harder coming back three days later, when he turned up dead.



 :surprise
((huge hugs))
NJ
« Last Edit: Wed, Dec 31, 1969, 04:00 PM by njrd »