The Protector of children

A/n: Not very proud of this one but it is an update.


Chapter four: Have no-one to trust.

You have been bad. William. You went outside without my permission. You knew the rules. You knew that everyone here has to follow them. These rules are for your own protection.

I have to punish you.

Ow! “How dare you bite me! Now you added ten extra whacks! Now come here!

Get in there! I said get in that room! Now get on that table and I’ll strap you in. Stop squirming! William! I said STOP MOVING and put your hands above your head! NOW!

You may think it’s fine being so defiant but I am done here, you’ll be a good little boy.

***

Every child stopped in their tracks as they heard the screams from the dreaded room where bad children go to be punished. The littler ones huddled together, embracing each other and cried on the other’s shoulders. The older ones just hanged their heads and wrapped themselves in their own embrace as they remembered the times that they were punished.

Once the screams had turned into horsed sobs, they waited for Papa to leave before one of them, the eldest sister, Mary, ventured inside. Then slowly, she unhooked the boy’s arms and picked him carefully, mindful of his bleeding back and carried him to the boys’ quarters to care for his wounds.

There wasn’t a day that went by that a child was punished for acting bad. This was their world and hope for a savior had died a long time ago.

****

Damn, his nose still hurts. It had swollen like a balloon and now he looked like one of those cartoons that where they just had nose and two beady little eyes.

Damn that Withers. Who knew that a little guy like that could pack a punch that hard so fast.. Well, he was wearing about thirty rings on each finger so that may have been an advantage on his part.

Of course, Cheza had lied about how he had gotten the broken nose, the bruise-cut cheeks and the limp. It would be embarrassing if the guys at the station had found out that he had lost a fight to a Goth punk who was half his size. And there was no need in telling them that the Goth punk’s dog had bitten him in the ass that helped him to lose said fight.

“How we feeling today, Champ?” Marks asked, he was trying so hard to keep from laughing at his partner’s misfortune.

“Naa.” The dark-haired man just grunted sourly and just wished Christmas Vacation begins tomorrow so he hide out in his bedroom for about a week, or just till the swelling went down and the pain goes away.

“Well, we still need Mr. Withers to come in for his statement.” The older man said as he stood up and straighten his shirt and tie. “He’s the only one with any info that might help us.”

“Are you sure that we can’t just follow some other leads? How about missing persons? Haven’t they found any reports about missing blonde little girls?” He wasn’t afraid to go back to the book shop, just that he wasn’t sure that he could be in the same room with the little blonde bastard and his land whale without killing him and then being killed by said land whale.

“No. Either she was from out town or her parents just didn’t care. Sad I know.” The heavyset man answered, pulling on his coat and hat, trying to look the part of a 1930’s detective but he looked more like old fool.

“Come on, this time I’ll do the talking and you just wait outside.” Travers grumbled under his breath as he stood up with coat in hand and followed his partner out into the cold Winter land.

***

Why isn‘t that every time there‘s a holiday close by that he ended up with the damn shopping and planning? But of course, he had managed to grab his best friend‘s credit card before he left the shop. This year, Bain was going to maxed out that damn card!

Heh heh heh.

Then the lazy son of bitch has no choice but to do the holiday planning and shopping from now on. Brilliant!

“Hey, Bain. You look overwhelmed. Been Christmas shopping?” Great, Creepy Micavilla had found him.

The old man was scary and creepy for two reasons, one he’s always smiling even in cases where a man can’t smile and Bain always felt that the old dark blue eyes were always trying to see into his soul. He just had bad vibes about this man and he always trusted what his mind and body has told him.

The old man, dressed in a green sweater vest and matching slacks with a big Christmas tie and red collared shirt, had walked up to the much younger man with a big smile on his wrinkled face. Unconsciously, the blonde man had backed up with his hands holding on tightly on his bags and boxes of Christmas drinks and treats, plus paper plates and cups.

Slone noticed his master’s sudden shift in mood and automatically trotted up to protect his master from the new threat. His dark brown eyes from under huge flabby brows watched the old human carefully.

“Umm, yeah. Just getting some stuff for the Santa party tomorrow at the shop. As usual, I’m stuck with the manual labor. “ He forced his legs to move forward to get away from this old man that was said by everyone that he was kind and good. He never was one to trust public opinion.

But Old Micovilla wasn’t letting him leave that easily. He just walked along side him as he continue the unwanted conversation.

“Oh right. It’s the party that Santa comes in to read to the little children while snacking on Christmas cookies. “ He stopped walking and caused the younger man to stop as well with a hand on his shoulder.

His heart started to speed up.

The items in his hands started to get heavy as his hands begin to sweat.

“I think it’s such a good thing that you boys do for the children. I’m sure they wait all year long just for your little Santa party.” He squeezed Bain’s shoulder in praise and then left the man to stand in the icy sidewalk in cold fear.

Oh. God. I can’t breath. He suddenly dropped to his knees and dropped his purchases.

***

“Hey, there’s our little buddy now.” Marks said as he pointed his finger at the glass.

Travers looked up to only see the only person that he couldn’t stand in the world fall down to the ground, spilling his boxes and bags all over the ground. Without thinking, he quickly unbuckled his seat beat and raced out the car even before it came to a full stop.

“Bain? What happen?” He held the paled face up in his hands, trying to break through the chaos that was Bain Withers’ mind. His heart pounded like a jackhammer, worried that the blonde could stop breathing at any time.

“I-I-I am fine. Just get away from me.” A few minutes later, the moonstone eyes returned focus and Bain was back to his usual prick self. He pushed the detective away and began to gather up his spilt items and putting them back in their proper places.

Travers stood back, his own breathing was back to normal and scratched his head, trying to make sense of why he kept trying to help this man when he was a total bastard to him.

“Well, can you at least tell me what happen. I mean people don’t just suddenly have panic attacks without a good reason to.” He backed up when his favorite dog in the whole universe started growling again.

“Hey, dog. Get a new trick.” He snarled back.

But the dog’s owner didn’t say anything instead, he just gathered the boxes and bags in hands and pushed his way through, knocking the bigger man out of the way.

“Hey! Say something so I know that’s you’re all right. For Christ’s sake!” His long legs walked to catch up with the blonde man.

Bain suddenly stopped and turned around and said with a straight face. “I am pregnant and I think it’s yours.” Then turned back around and resumed walking.

The dark-haired detective snorted out a chuckled and resumed his chase of the blonde man.

“That’s pretty good. It’s nice to know that you can crack a joke. I just thought that your kind couldn‘t do anything but insult and whine about how life is unfair.”

“Who said that I do that? Just because I insult you every time that I see you, doesn’t mean I do that to everyone.” Bain looked over his shoulder for moment and looked forward again. “Purple is so not your color.”

The officer rubbed his bruised face, wincing at the contact of skin. “I see your jaw is better but then again I didn’t hit you so hard. You were the one that just wailed on me and even had your land whale to back you up.”

Slone snorted at the big human, knowing full well when he just have been insulted.

Bain stopped at a crosswalk, hoped that the light would change very soon. “Do you have a purpose in your stalking or do I need to make a little phone to your superiors about how you keep harassing me.”

“Yes, I do have a purpose and it’s the same one as yesterday. Tell me about Cassandra’s killer and I’ll stop pestering you.” He leaned down so his own face was only centimeters apart from the smaller, paler face.

Bain wiggled his red ring on the left side of his mouth as he thought of the man’s offer. But then he thought the time when he was considering kiss the thin flat mouth that wasn’t that far from his. It was just as inviting now as it was before. Parted just halfway to take in and push out air and if you moved your eyes just so to the side and down, you could see a moist red tongue just brushing up against ivory teeth.

What the fuck was he thinking? He shock the unwanted thoughts from his mind and was apart to say something when his mobile phone just rang. In his back pocket with his hands too full to move.

“Oh, let me.” The dark haired detective smirked as his long arm reached around and slide right into the pocket, under the black winter coat, with the smaller man hitching his breath at the contact, and pulled the mint-colored phone out. But he didn’t give it to it’s owner, instead he hit speaker phone and held it out so both could hear it.

“What is it?” Oh, he so wanted to kill this man.

“Got a problem with Santa.” Alan’s voice sounded upset.

“What’s the problem?” God, just give me a fucking break for once!

“He had a family thing to go to and canceled on us. He can’t return the check since it was already cashed.”

“So un-fucking believable! Now, we don’t have a Santa and we can’t have a Santa reading party without a fucking Santa! And we already have twenty plus kids and their parents coming to this thing, Alan. We can’t just go ’Opps, Santa canceled on us. Sorry, but we won’t have the Santa thing this year!’ What am I going to do with tons of Christmas Cookies, cupcakes an-”

“Don’t worry, Alan.” Detective Cheza just had a very brilliant idea that could get the light blonde in front of him to talk to him about the Cassandra’s murderer. He just smiled in pride of himself and his genius mind. “We got a back up Santa. So everything’s cool.” With that he hanged up the phone and placed it back in the startled man’s pocket.

“What do you mean, we have a back-up Santa?” He began to rant and rave once again but was cut short when Travers lifted up a finger and pointed at his partner who just now caught up with the two man.

Detective Marks stopped and cocked his head at the way that the other two were looking at him.

“What?”

“That’s our back-up Santa. But he comes with a price.” The dark haired man smiled as the blonde rolled his eyes at him.

“Fine, I’ll come down to your station but only after the party tomorrow.” The light had finally turned green for crossing the street.

“Come on down at the shop by ten and bring your own suit!” Bain yelled over his shoulder with Slone tugging behind.

“Um, Travy? Why did you just agree me to do?” Marks was now fully weary of his young partner.

The man grabbed him by the shoulders and patted his big belly. “Why, you’re going to be Santa. And tomorrow, we finally get that little bastard to talk to us!”

Sometimes, it’s good to be a genius.

*********

Slone the dog says: "Review and Shippa Claus will give you an update for Christmas."