Charloft Thursday: Wildly Inappropriate!Charlie
Requested by: notenlightened. Set somewhere after "One".
It was completely silent in Robbery-Homicide, which was a very rare event. Charlie was good at causing those. This time, he had refused to shake the Chief of Detective’s hand. The edge of his smile was cold and he could see the Chief getting angry, but he was also getting scared. He was scared because he could see just how much Charlie knew in his eyes.
He knew that Jack Reese and the SWAT team had been placed at the Bank of L.A. shooting by the man now standing in front of him. He knew that the Chief was a good friend of Mickey Rayborn and that the two still played golf together and after hearing the Chief congratulating them about taking down Roman, he knew that he was the man who had threatened Jack Reese in the first place. One of the six.
“You thought money would buy you everything, didn’t you?” he said quietly so most of the squad room couldn’t hear. “Was 50 million your suggestion or Rayborn’s?”
“Crews,” Reese hissed from next to him.
“It bought you everything.” He should listen to Reese. He really should stop talking. He was giving away too much while he didn’t have any evidence to back up what was falling into place in his head. The puzzle was sliding together and the anger was getting the better of him.
“Power, respect, but it didn’t buy you one thing. It didn’t bring you peace. It didn’t buy you me.”
“Detective Crews,” Reese whispered harshly, “Take a walk.”
He looked over at his partner, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
With one last look at the Chief he stepped around the man and walked away, his hands clenched tight into fists. He didn’t bother to wait for the elevator and took the stairs up to the roof instead. He had screwed up and given up a great deal just to what? To see the Chief of Detectives one of the men responsible for his twelve years in prison flinch? He was going to pay for this. Someone was going to make him pay.
“What was that?” Reese burst onto the roof and stalked towards him, clearly furious.
“It was what it was. What it will always be, past, present and future, it is.” He knew that Zen would just make her more angry but he was still struggling with his own emotions and trying to get back to the now. He could feel the cold on the back of his neck that signaled prison was creeping back.
“No, don’t try and Zen your way out of this, Crews. Tidwell is trying to save your ass right now. What the hell was that?” She was in his face, not yelling but angry and accusing and judging. He couldn’t handle that from her right now.
He saw himself grabbing her shoulders and backing her up to the door. He saw the surprise, then anger but no fear. Reese wasn’t afraid, even though he was a little afraid of himself right now.
“That was one of the men who picked me, made me,” he said harshly. “Him and his friends got rich off robbing a back and then picked me to make me one of them. When I wouldn’t get my hands dirty, they got my friend and then they killed my friend.”
“They killed my friend. And they framed me.” He shook her shoulders with every word, so angry and so… hurt. Other cops, cops he had trusted completely back then, were the ones to turn on him because they couldn’t use him. He let go of Reese’s shoulders, let his hands fall to his side and bowed his head.
“All his crap about how proud he was, how the whole force benefited from good police work like ours… it’s all crap. It’s all crap, Reese.”
Now he waited for the slap or more likely in Reese’s case, the punch that would come from him manhandling her. The metaphorical slap would come later when she asked for a new partner and he got shuffled around again.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sincerely.
Reese drew herself up and stepped in close to him. “Damn right you are, Crews. We’re partners and you’ve been keeping too much from me. You’re going to show me everything, everything and we’re going to figure this out. We’re partners.”
“Reese…”
“Everything, Crews. My father started this, I’m going to end it.”
It was completely silent in Robbery-Homicide, which was a very rare event. Charlie was good at causing those. This time, he had refused to shake the Chief of Detective’s hand. The edge of his smile was cold and he could see the Chief getting angry, but he was also getting scared. He was scared because he could see just how much Charlie knew in his eyes.
He knew that Jack Reese and the SWAT team had been placed at the Bank of L.A. shooting by the man now standing in front of him. He knew that the Chief was a good friend of Mickey Rayborn and that the two still played golf together and after hearing the Chief congratulating them about taking down Roman, he knew that he was the man who had threatened Jack Reese in the first place. One of the six.
“You thought money would buy you everything, didn’t you?” he said quietly so most of the squad room couldn’t hear. “Was 50 million your suggestion or Rayborn’s?”
“Crews,” Reese hissed from next to him.
“It bought you everything.” He should listen to Reese. He really should stop talking. He was giving away too much while he didn’t have any evidence to back up what was falling into place in his head. The puzzle was sliding together and the anger was getting the better of him.
“Power, respect, but it didn’t buy you one thing. It didn’t bring you peace. It didn’t buy you me.”
“Detective Crews,” Reese whispered harshly, “Take a walk.”
He looked over at his partner, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
With one last look at the Chief he stepped around the man and walked away, his hands clenched tight into fists. He didn’t bother to wait for the elevator and took the stairs up to the roof instead. He had screwed up and given up a great deal just to what? To see the Chief of Detectives one of the men responsible for his twelve years in prison flinch? He was going to pay for this. Someone was going to make him pay.
“What was that?” Reese burst onto the roof and stalked towards him, clearly furious.
“It was what it was. What it will always be, past, present and future, it is.” He knew that Zen would just make her more angry but he was still struggling with his own emotions and trying to get back to the now. He could feel the cold on the back of his neck that signaled prison was creeping back.
“No, don’t try and Zen your way out of this, Crews. Tidwell is trying to save your ass right now. What the hell was that?” She was in his face, not yelling but angry and accusing and judging. He couldn’t handle that from her right now.
He saw himself grabbing her shoulders and backing her up to the door. He saw the surprise, then anger but no fear. Reese wasn’t afraid, even though he was a little afraid of himself right now.
“That was one of the men who picked me, made me,” he said harshly. “Him and his friends got rich off robbing a back and then picked me to make me one of them. When I wouldn’t get my hands dirty, they got my friend and then they killed my friend.”
“They killed my friend. And they framed me.” He shook her shoulders with every word, so angry and so… hurt. Other cops, cops he had trusted completely back then, were the ones to turn on him because they couldn’t use him. He let go of Reese’s shoulders, let his hands fall to his side and bowed his head.
“All his crap about how proud he was, how the whole force benefited from good police work like ours… it’s all crap. It’s all crap, Reese.”
Now he waited for the slap or more likely in Reese’s case, the punch that would come from him manhandling her. The metaphorical slap would come later when she asked for a new partner and he got shuffled around again.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sincerely.
Reese drew herself up and stepped in close to him. “Damn right you are, Crews. We’re partners and you’ve been keeping too much from me. You’re going to show me everything, everything and we’re going to figure this out. We’re partners.”
“Reese…”
“Everything, Crews. My father started this, I’m going to end it.”