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outraged at what appears to be zero hooker slash, and inspired by some of you barbe slashfans, i've written some of my own. i don't usually inflict my fiction on you people, but it's YOUR fault i've got into this, so you have to read it. bear in mind, this is my first attempt, i've only ever read a couple of slash stories and i bashed it out in a couple of hours. enough stalling/disclaimers. am thinking of sending it to a slash site. i understand real life people slash is somewhat legally dodgy, which is a shame - the pics of beckham and seaman after the brazil game are rather begging for it - 'a safe pair of hands', anyone?
A HARD DAY AT ACADEMY PRECINCT
Hooker strode through the station, trying to keep his cool. He was on duty with Romano, his young cadet partner, and they had made an arrest. Hooker was angry at what he saw as a waste of time – the arrest was just a punk, a street kid, caught in possession of drugs. Hooker had wanted to let the punk go – he was small fry. Better to let him lead the cops to the dealers, and the dealers to the suppliers; stop the junk before it hit the streets – but he was under orders to make as many arrests as possible. City Hall had prepared arrest targets, Captain Sheridan had told them, and he was determined to meet them. Sheridan knew it would not go down well with the cops, especially Hooker, but he had his orders and there was no point in arguing.
A voice called out behind him. “Something tells me you’re not in the best of moods.” He turned. It was Sheridan. “You should be happy. You got a dealer off the streets.”
“He’s no dealer,” said Hooker. “He’s got some extra junk on him to sell to his punk friends. I want to stop the supplies coming in. Like you do. Like every cop on the streets wants to. This kid’s not worth the paperwork. Although the paperwork will keep the petty bureaucrats in City Hall happy.”
Sheridan sighed. “I don’t like it, Hooker. You know that. But you never know, he might give us a name or two, a lead to the bigger fish. It’s better than nothing. Romano’s waiting out front for you, Hooker. Better get back on the streets – it’s the only place you’re even half happy.”
Vince Romano was leaning against the car, eyes closed, enjoying the sunshine. Hooker stood a while and watched him. Vince was a good cadet, and would make a fine cop. He was not one for breaking the rules, but with Hooker’s influence would learn when it was necessary to step around them, bend them a little. It was the only way to win sometimes. He was sometimes a little fiery, not entirely disciplined yet, and it was this reason he’d been given Hooker as a partner. Discipline was essential if a cop was to survive on the streets. Hooker was hard on his partner. He had to be, for both their sakes. He watched the handsome cadet basking in the sun for a little longer, noting the way the breeze pulled at his shirt and ruffled his hair like playful fingers, then headed towards the car, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in his stomach.
When they were out of the precinct, Hooker said, “You’re looking happy, Romano. Pleased with our contribution towards the quota?”
Romano laughed. “Now how did I guess you’d have a problem with the arrest target? But no, I was thinking about the date I had last night.”
Hooker was taken aback. Vince hadn’t told him he was going on a date. The young cadet always had some girl on his mind, but it never seemed to last more than a week or two. Typical for a cop. The girl would run a mile once they knew what he did. Which was just as well – they’d never understand. Only a cop could understand a cop. Hooker took a deep breath.
“So who was she this time?”
“That’s just it. It didn’t happen. I called it off.” Romano was looking at his partner, wanting to see his reaction. “I decided I didn’t want to go out with her. I think I’m off dating girls for a while. There’s no point.”
Hooker kept a poker face. “Gonna concentrate on the job for a change, huh, Romano?”
Romano laughed again. “I’ve gotta keep plenty of energy for all that form filling.”
No point in dating girls? What did Romano mean? Hooker wondered if he really did want to focus on the job. Or could there be something – or some one – keeping his mind off dating? Hooker had the respect of the young man, he knew that, but could there possibly be more? His thoughts were interrupted by the bleep of the radio. “4adam30, come in.”
Hooker took one hand off the wheel and reached for the radio. Romano went for it at the same time and for a moment Vince’s hand closed over his partner’s. Then it was gone, and Romano was cracking jokes about how they were both keen to get to the bad guys.
Hooker took the radio, acknowledged and the voice replied. “Shots fired at 1162 Market, at Church, caller says it’s a drugs deal gone wrong, can you deal, over?”
“You bet your life we can. Over!” said Hooker, and hit the lights and the siren. “This’ll be one arrest I won’t mind doing the paperwork for.” He swung the car around and hit the gas.
The house was quiet. There was a sudden movement on the porch and both cops drew their guns, but there was no danger; a man was down, a bullet wound in his chest. He looked in bad shape, but there was no time to call for an ambulance. Romano covered Hooker as he went into the house. For a few seconds it looked as if there was no one inside and then all hell broke loose. One man made a run for the door and another, further inside the house, began shooting at them. Hooker rolled expertly and came up in the firing position, using a desk as cover. Romano had grappled the would-be escapee to the floor and after several attempts, cuffed his hands behind his back. As he got up, Hooker saw that the man who had fired at them had moved forward, and was aiming right at his partner, about to shoot.
“Vince, get down!” Hooker fired instinctively and hit the man’s outstretched arm. The man screamed and dropped the gun. He lurched towards the back door but Hooker was on him in a second. As he ‘cuffed him, Hooker saw the briefcase lying open on the floor, stuffed full of packs of white powder. “You’ll never point a gun at a cop again. I’ll see to that.”
Backup had arrived in the form of Corrigan and Stacey. Hooker pushed the dealer towards them. “Take this piece of trash away. And call for an ambulance. We don’t want that scumbag outside dying before he can be jailed.”
He turned to Romano, who was lying on the floor, staring at him. “I stopped thinking there for a second – I was a sitting duck just then, Hooker. You saved my life.”
Corrigan and Stacey had driven off with the dealer. They were alone again. Hooker felt a flush rising to his cheeks. He shrugged, trying to look casual. “We’re partners. And it’s your turn to buy coffee. So I didn’t have much choice.”
After a moment’s hesitation, he held out his hand. Romano nodded. “That’s right. We’re… partners.” The words seemed to stick in his throat. He took Hooker’s hand, felt the older man grip him tight as he helped him to his feet. When Hooker didn’t let go, Romano’s first instinct was to pull away, but he kept his nerve. He felt Hooker’s thumb gently brush across the back of his hand. The admiration he felt for his mentor was coursing through him, more than ever, more even than the night before, when he had cancelled his date, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind on the girl, on the pretence. They looked into each other’s eyes for what seemed like hours, both men aware only of the other, of their breathing, of the touch of their hands. Both looking, perhaps, for a sign, a signal, that what they’d thought and felt was real. Finally it was Hooker who could bear it no more and decided to take a chance. He drew the young cadet to him. Romano offered no resistance as Hooker leaned down and began the kiss they’d both wanted for so long. |
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