Buddy Cop

Like with most Monday's, the police station was almost dead. A few tired parol officers, fewer deputies, and the criminals held over the weekend were being walked out, taking mind to yell obscenities to anyone wearing a badge. The young recruits, who came in to make a good impression, all talked about the "killer parties" they attended over the weekend, and the older recruits bitched at the younger recruits for partying on the weekend instead of "remaining vigilante" like they did in their young days. Which, of course, was a load of horse shit. Age and alcohol related liver degradation just made them forget that they acted the same way in their youth. Those old detectives, hardly the Sherlock Holmes from novels, rather old, balding, and with a stomach bulging from their tucked in plaid shirt's.

And it was what Brian Weatherly had to look forward to.

It was refreshing to know he wasn't close to being overweight, old, and miserable yet. He was twenty eight, so he still had his youth. He spent two hours a day at the gym, and had the body to match. The miserable part, well his wife was sleeping with the pool boy. He was still working on that part. Couldn't necessarily blame her for having an affair, between work and the gym, they scarcely spent any time together anymore. Didn't help that, despite not working herself, anytime he went home all she could find herself doing was finding something to bitch at him for. If not for his daughter, he would have already filed for divorce.

But this Monday was going to be bad in particular. He had a new assignment he had yet to be briefed on, and his partner since he made detective three years prior resigned the last Friday. Not that Brian liked his former partner, not by any means. The old bastard had one foot in the grave, the other inching closer to the grave every minute, and what time he didn't spend napping, he spent telling Brian he was doing all the wrong procedures, or bitching that the crime scene investigation team was funded by warlocks. After all, how else could they know someone's semen was in a victim? He was old school. Old school, as in the time when petitcoat wearing women taught a group of varying aged students while the men tried to suspend civil rights.

Not going to be missed. But what Brian dreaded was his new partner. It was going to be someone young. He'd already read some about him. Some kid, whose name Brian had already forgotten. Twenty two, college graduate, passed his detective exam on first try with flying colors, and soared through police academy. The optimist would see this as young, smart, and incredibly physically fit. Brian saw it as being an inexperienced brat, a know-it-all, and over compensating.

He had just put out his cigarette before entering the building, and already needed another one. He cut through the sea of desks, toward the adjacent wall where an office with the name tag "Weatherly" sat comfortably. Past all of the early morning officers, Brian went into his office that the janitor's laughed at, and occasionally tried to put their brooms in. Eight years of service to the police force, and all he got was a claustrophobic office with no window and the ventilation of a sauna.

No sooner than he was seated in his uncomfortable office chair, preparing to sort through the overflowing mountains of unfilled case reports scattered randomly across his desk, the phone rang. Also unreachable as it cried bloody murder somewhere beneath the heaps of files, Brian decided against bothering. He knew who it was. He left his office, cut again through the still empty sea of desks, to the much large office at the corner of the main office: the Commissioner's office.

He went in, long since forgoing the courtesy of knocking, and was pleased to see the commissioner was still on the phone trying to call his office.

Brian's hazel eyes fell on the boy sitting in front of the commissioner's desk. From his placement behind him, he couldn't see his face, but he could tell he was young, dressed casually, and had a spunky haircut, his jet black hair laid down, save for his bangs which were flipped up and saying "fuck you" to gravity. It was almost clear contrast to his own own, unruly dirty blond hair which was lucky to be dried after he left the shower.

"I'm here, boss."

The commissioner glanced up, not even complaining about Brian's manners anymore. He'd gotten used to them, and Brian was too damn good to fire. "Of course you are..." The older, balder man grumbled.

"So, this about my new assignment, or my new partner? Cause I've got too much work for either."

"It's about both. Before we get into this, let me introduce you to your new buddy." He motioned the boy in the chair, who rose and turned.

For a moment, Brian felt his heart stop. The boy was stunning. Almond shaped, sea blue eyes, a face that was an exotic mixture of male and female, and a limber body, a tanned six pack no doubt hiding underneath the black t-shirt he wore, and a diabetically sweet smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Brian composed himself, and regarded the boy with a grunt.

"My name is Michael Langston. Nice to meet you." He presented his hand.

Falling silent, merely staring at the hand outstretched, Brian finally spoke. "You're kidding, right. This kid? His balls just dropped."

"You realize, I'm standing right here."

"Shut it, brat!" After Michael effectively did as he was told, Brian turned his glare, his glare known to break hardened criminals, onto the Commissioner. "Alright, look. I know I didn't exactly like the old bastard I worked with before. But I didn't mean for you to go rip a baby away from his mother to make my new partner."

"Still standing right here."

"Shut up!"

Again, he did as told.

"Look, Detective Weatherly." He only referred to him formally when he was serious. "You can bitch, you can moan. But, as always, this isn't a debate. Mr. Langston is your new partner, and you're just gonna have to make due. Besides, I assigned him to you for more than one reason."

"And what's that?"

"Detective Langston will fill you in on the details. I really don't feel like briefing you and listening to your snide ass remarks this morning. So, I'll just tell you it's undercover work. Mr. Langston, you can take it from there."

"Yes sir!" He beamed with enough energy to make an old man break dance. "Now, the mission---"

The commissioner threw a manila folder at Michael. "In his office! Not mine!"

"O-Oh, I'm sorry, sir." He glanced over the manila folder. "Where's your office?" He asked, turning his bright blue eyes back to Brian.

Grumbling again, something he'd been doing a lot lately. He turned and guided Michael from the commissioner's office, making a point of slamming the door in his wake, and cut back to his office. After thrusting the boy rather crudely in, he followed, again making a point of slamming the door, before pushing Michael into the vacant chair and sitting down on his own.

"It's kinda cramped in here..." Michael fidgeted uncomfortably.

Never taking his glare off Michael after his comment, Brian lit a cigarette he shuffled out of his pocket and took a deep drag. Sweet nicotine. She always understood him.

"Is it okay for you to smoke in here?"

"Is for me. Not for you. Now, what's this undercover shit the Commissioner was talkin' about?" He blew smoke towards the boy, almost becoming pissed when the youth didn't react the way he wanted. Didn't cough or wave the smoke away. Just cracked open the folder and looked through it.

"From what he told me, we're going after Rick Bajeen."

And suddenly the cigarette didn't understand Brian so well, almost slipping from his lips and falling to the floor. "You're kidding, right? Rick Bajeen? A newbie goin' after him!?"

"Well, I'm mostly supposed to act as bait."

"That's even more dangerous!" He took another drag of his cigarette. "What the fuck is that old bastard thinking!?"

"Well. It turns out that a number of people have spotted Mr. Bajeen---"

"Whoah, cut it right there." He waved his finger. "Don't be formal about these bastards. They're criminals. They don't deserve your respect."

"Geez, sorry for having manners." That struck a blow. "Anyways, Bajeen has been spotted frequenting gay bars lately. The type he picks up tend to show similarity. Dark hair, slender build..."

"In other words, you."

"Exactly!"

He scratched the unruly locks of his own blond hair. "You sound way too excited."

"Sorry 'bout that. Anyways, as of right now. The police have no real evidence to bust Bajeen. So, the plan is for me to get close, get him comfortable with me, when I'll recommend you, the buyer. If we can get him to take a large amount of product out into the open, we'll be able to make an arrest."

"You seem to be underestimating this situation a little bit. For one, littlest thing goes wrong, you could wind up dead. For two, you do realize when the commissioner said get close, you're probably gonna have to have sex with Bajeen, don't you?"

"I already know that."

"I mean, in your ass. He's going to fuck you. In the ass." It wasn't until after the fact that Brian realized how comically he had said it.

"Well, I was hoping I could convince him to put it in my vagina." The dry humor was met with only a harsh glare from his partner.

"I'm being serious here."

"You're talking like I'm a guy who's never taken it up the ass before."

"So you're gay?"

"Super gay."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Fantastic."

"You don't have a problem with that, do you?" His cheerful, childish gaze quickly shattered, the fragments recollecting to a look of dangerous arrogance. "Or...do you think if we ever bring in a really hot perp, I'll bend over and beg him to butt fuck me. And, if he does a good job, I'll let him go."

"I didn't say that, you damn brat. Don't put words in my mouth."

"No, no you didn't say it. But you're no different than every other meat head cop in this building." His gaze further narrowed, Brian finding himself amused by the dangerous intrigue the boy presented. "You thought the same thing you saw me that everyone else did. A dumb kid who read too many detective novel's and now wants his life to be just like a story."

"Are they wrong?"

"Hell yes, they're wrong. Don't get me wrong, I loved detective novels. But I'm damn good. I don't care if they all know it or not, but I want you to know it. I want you to be able to trust me. We're partners."

"On paper only!" Brian snapped. "You're going to have to earn the right to be called my partner."

"The right to be called your partner? Alright, fair enough. You look like a gambling man to me, so let's make a little wager. What do you say?"

"Wager?"

"Yeah." Michael leaned over desk, inch carefully closer to Brian. "If I blow this case, screw up in the smallest way, I'll stop being your partner. Hell, I'll resign from the police force."

"That's a little extreme." Brian grumbled. He became aware of the bright blue eyes coming closer to his face.

"I play to win. And when I win, I want you to recognize me as your partner, and I want you to kiss me."

"I'm married."

"Yeah, I noticed the wedding ring. But, I'm also taking note of the fact that, there isn't a single picture of your wife, anywhere in the office." Brian's eyes narrowed. The boy was good. He'd underestimated his new partner, even if he would never admit it. "Maybe the touch of a man might...refresh you."

An amused smile tugged at Brian's lips. Sorely, sorely underestimated him. Michael wasn't bad looking, his cute face, his hard little body. Though he'd never identified himself as bisexual, Brian had never once been above finding another man attractive.

"Alright, let's raise the stakes a bit higher. You blow this case, you resign and you strut out of here in a dress."

"Well, if we're going that far, when we kiss I want tongue." Brian noted Michael didn't say, "if we kiss." He was arrogant. "And, I mean deep, deep tongue. A hot guy like you, I bet you could leave me breathless."

"You've got balls kid. Deal." He wasn't completely hating his new partner any more. He knew what he wanted, and went for it. A rare trait in individuals. And, his big blue eyes conveyed every emotion Michael felt with excellent detail. It was an odd quality in him, for most, it made them predictable. But, in Michael, it made him chaotically unpredictable.

"Go ahead and call your wife, and apologize then. I'm getting that kiss."

"Meh, it's early in the morning, meaning she's probably already called the pool boy."

"Cleaning her pipes?"

"Watch it, that's still my wife you're talking about." Brian growled.

"Well. we're supposed to start immediately. From the intel..." Michael flipped through the folder. "Another undercover agent said he's supposed to be going out tonight. A bar called...Grecko."

"Grecko? That sound's like a gay bar."

"Pretty good one, too. They've got these really hot guys all oiled up and dancing in cages above the dance floor, and great music. Plus, twinks get free drinks on Mondays!"

"Twinks?"

"Me."

"Oh, of course."

"Alright, let's go over the rest of the plan. After I've had a couple of weeks to get close, becoming Bajeen's personal lover, of course, you'll come in, disguised as a buyer. We need to get him to move his big stash out in the open, so we can bust him."

"One more thing. If we're going through all this trouble, there's one more thing I want out of this bastard."

"What's that?"

"It's never been proven, but there was a kid who came through here about a year ago." Brian cringed as he recalled the nasty memory. "He was a good cop, bright eyed, a lot like you. He made the mistake of arresting one of Bajeen's men. Found decapitated in his own home a few days later."

"Oh my god..."

"Never proved it was Bajeen, but everybody with half a brain on this force knows it was that son of a bitch. I want him to confess to it."

"That may be impossible, you realize that, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I want his family to watch the bastard fry."

"I thought they did injections now."

"You think I'm jokin' here?"

"Sorry...I didn't mean..."

Brian sighed. "No, I know you didn't mean anything by it. Look, I just want you to be sure of one thing. You may not go home tonight, hell you may not go home anytime soon. You'll be in constant danger, and if your cover is blown even once, you will die."

"I know."

"Why do you seem like you don't know."

"I know! Alright?"

"Whatever. Let's go over the mission plan and then we'll head out."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This is just the Prologue. So, it's not very long. Next chapter will be much longer (hopefully three time as long as this) so just bear with me until I can get it up. I just wanted to establish the setting, hot sex will come later. So, hopefully Chapter 1 can be up before Monday. Later!