GIFT FIC
A while back Gef and I were talking about something unholy, so I thought I should beat him to the punch and write a drabble based one of his fanarts. I don't think I did it justice, but I hope you like it Gef~~~
Third Attempt
For gefrierpunkt
Damon Gant took his seat, his hands folded, an expression of ease on his face. His attire was somewhat more conservative that morning: a black coat instead of his usual orange. There were times when even he did not wish to draw too much attention to himself. He was here on a personal matter.
Karma was seated across from him, and ironically it was him dressed in the police chief's signature color. Of course, it did not look nearly so dashing against his pale complexion and sour face, but Gant could not help but smile nonetheless.
"I always said you should try it," he teased.
Karma snorted bitterly, regarding Gant dully through the thick glass that separated them. "If you thought I'd thank you for coming, you were wrong."
Gant waved his hand. "Well, I would have asked for a conjugal visit, but given the circumstances…"
"My time is quickly becoming limited," Karma interrupted. "So get on with whatever you came here to say."
Gant's eyes thinned behind his glasses, and for a moment his good humor faded. "Do you remember our talk, fifteen years ago?"
It was an unexpected question, and though Karma's eyes thinned as if concentrating on finding an answer, Gant knew that he already knew it.
*****
The two men sat facing each other at a table in the courthouse café. Though their meetings had always been a strange mixture of the pleasurable and antagonistic, there was a different sort of tension in Karma now. When they first met that afternoon, he had looked Gant straight in the eye as they spoke. A quick glare followed by distracted indifference would a more typical reaction.
It was when Karma was being his most honest that Gant knew he was lying.
"It's been six months," Gant remarked amiably enough.
"You can count," Karma snorted. "It has indeed been six months."
The idea that Karma might have actually been hiding something from him was fascinating. "I thought taking vacation time was against your code of honor," he continued. "And yet, I heard you even left the country."
"I was visiting my wife in Berlin. That should hardly be surprising, considering we have a two year old daughter."
"Ah, yes. How is little Franziska?" Gant was never in much of a mood to hear about that particular aspect of Karma's "family life," but it was only polite to ask.
"She is developing satisfactorily." Only a man like Karma could come up with such an impersonal description of his own offspring. "But we're not here to talk about her, are we?" He shifted in his chair, as if unable to find a comfortable position. There was stiffness in his frame that Gant couldn't account for. "You want to ask me something."
Gant considered the many different ways to approach his old comrade. "You know me," he said casually. "My curiosity is insatiable. And is it not customary to ask a coworker about their vacation, upon their return?"
Irritation flashed in Karma's eyes, but as he shifted again something seemed to come over him. "It was…eventful," he answered carefully. "I've taken in a boy."
"A boy?" That sounded absolutely scandalous, but Karma's sharp glare destroyed the train of thought. "You mean, a child?" Gant supposed.
"Yes. I've adopted a child."
"That's…" Gant pursed his lips. "…unexpected."
"There is a purpose to it." For the first time since they'd taken their seats, Karma gave his tea a stir and took a sip. "Do you remember our talk?" he asked abruptly. "Fifteen years ago?"
Gant needed barely a moment to recall exactly the date Karma had in mind.
*****
The two men stretched back to back beneath Gant's stiff cotton sheets. Several minutes after their vigorous intercourse Gant was still having trouble getting his breath completely even. Perhaps he was starting to "feel his age" after all. After only their second time that night he was feeling winded.
Of course, he was never too tired to tease his little Manny. "I finally got you into a proper bed," he said, grinning into the darkness.
"If you can call it 'proper'," Karma was quick to complain. "Your sheets feel like sandpaper."
"We can't all be paid as well as prosecutors. But if they're so awful, next time you should invite me to your bed."
Karma stretched, the bony curve of his shoulder blades pressed against Gant's back. "Not likely."
Gant chuckled. Truly, he had never taken such a disagreeable lover. He rolled over, draping his broad body over Karma's to press him into the mattress. "When are you going to admit that you really do like me, Manny?" he whined playfully. When Karma grunted and tried to shove him off, Gant only smothered him with more of his weight. "Maybe I shouldn't let you up until you do."
He pressed a sloppy kiss to Karma's pale neck. "Do you think it's like fate?" he asked, mostly sarcastic, as he pushed platinum blonde hair out of his way. "That two men like us would end up in the same district, working together, sleeping together…"
Karma grumbled, but despite his vocal protests he tilted his chin to invite each kiss at the same time. "Do you really believe in things like that?" he asked.
"Not really," Gant confessed. "Luck, maybe." He smirked as he pushed at Karma's shoulder, urging him to roll onto his stomach. Karma fought back just enough. "Sometimes, the right opportunity falls into your lap at just the right moment." He smirked. "Why, do you?"
"No." Karma sighed as he finally gave in, letting Gant climb over him. "I am always in control."
Gant chuckled deeply, and gave his shoulder a bite. "Even now?"
"Of course." Karma's voice finally regained its hint of humor. "Especially now."
*****
"I remember," Gant assured, glad he was not the blushing type. "Why do you ask?"
Karma took another sip from his tea. "You asked how my vacation was," he answered deliberately, each word as perfectly articulated as any argument he gave in court. "But I know what it is you really want to ask me. And the answer is yes."
"Yes?" Gant echoed, honestly confused but also intrigued. Karma was always supposing that he knew Gant better than he did himself.
"Yes." Karma met his eyes seriously once more. "I am still in control."
Normally, such a declaration would have indicated the absolute opposite; Gant had sat in on enough interrogations to know. But in watching Karma then, Gant believed him, realizing that Karma had answered exactly the question he hadn't known he wanted to ask.
"Especially now," he quoted, amused. There were other questions he could have asked to follow up Karma's declaration, but he was satisfied. An enigma like Manfred von Karma was best enjoyed in little tastes at a time. "I am glad to hear it."
*****
"I remember," Karma said. "Why do you ask?"
Gant tipped his chin up slightly. Even now, he had the impression that Karma's sharp eyes were seeing right through him. Surely he already knew the question on Gant's mind, and was only asking at all as a means of demeaning him. "You know."
Karma was the one behind bars. Karma was the one awaiting execution. But when he glared at his visitor, the hardness behind his eyes convinced Gant that nothing had changed. He folded his hands on the table as he waited for Karma to say what he already knew.
"The answer is no."
Unexpected. "No…?"
"No," Karma repeated sternly. "You are not in control anymore."
Gant's brow furrowed. Though he couldn't say he had gone so far as to rehearse this encounter, he'd had his expectations, and suddenly each of them had been disrupted with a single word. "No," he said again, "we're not talking about me."
"Aren't we?" Karma gave his shoulder a brief rub. "It's always been about you."
"I'm here to find out from you," Gant insisted, becoming irrationally irritated. "You've been planning this for fifteen years, and now you're going to die because of it. If I'd known you were in over your head--"
Karma gave a short spasm, and it wasn't until his cold voice emptied out of him that Gant realized it was in laughter. "Gant. Haven't you had enough by now?"
The cryptic responses were finally inciting Gant's temper; his leather gloves squealed as his fingers tightened around each other. "Maybe I shouldn't have come after all."
"It doesn't matter. You'll be here soon enough." Karma flashed him a bitter smirk. "It wasn't fate, you know. It just couldn't have happened any other way."
Suddenly fed up with him, Gant rose from his seat. "Tell yourself that, then. Prison is making you weak, old man. You can't read me as well as you used to."
"Can't I?" Karma watched him, looking vaguely unimpressed. "You're worried, aren't you? That boy of mine ruined me. That's what you wanted to know: if that was part of my plan all along as well. I was perfect. How could it have happened, if I did not plan for it?"
The slight clench behind Gant's ribs told him, again, that Karma was right. He tried not to let that trepidation show in his face. "And?"
"And…like I said, no," Karma reiterated. "I was…not perfect." Those words almost didn't make sense, when formed in his voice. "And neither are you."
And that was it. Gant stood staring at him a moment longer, expecting some addition to his explanation. But Karma only signaled for the guard, who came to escort him out of his chair. The former prosecutor granted his visitor a nod of his head. "Goodbye, Damon."
Gant's jaw worked for a moment before he could respond.
*****
*****
"Goodbye, Manny."
Karma shot him a glare as they parted outside the court house. He was still angry with his newly christened police chief, but no more than Gant had expected. They would work things out. They were still a team, and would be working together as efficiently as ever soon enough.
Thunder rumbled overhead, and as Gant lifted his head, a few drops of cold rain fell on his face. One in particular slid down his neck and under the collar of his coat, making him shiver.
He shook himself, thinking he should smirk against the clouds for their melodramatic sense of foreboding. But for some reason it just wasn't funny.
Thanks to silverwind9 for beta-ing it for me :D
Third Attempt
For gefrierpunkt
Damon Gant took his seat, his hands folded, an expression of ease on his face. His attire was somewhat more conservative that morning: a black coat instead of his usual orange. There were times when even he did not wish to draw too much attention to himself. He was here on a personal matter.
Karma was seated across from him, and ironically it was him dressed in the police chief's signature color. Of course, it did not look nearly so dashing against his pale complexion and sour face, but Gant could not help but smile nonetheless.
"I always said you should try it," he teased.
Karma snorted bitterly, regarding Gant dully through the thick glass that separated them. "If you thought I'd thank you for coming, you were wrong."
Gant waved his hand. "Well, I would have asked for a conjugal visit, but given the circumstances…"
"My time is quickly becoming limited," Karma interrupted. "So get on with whatever you came here to say."
Gant's eyes thinned behind his glasses, and for a moment his good humor faded. "Do you remember our talk, fifteen years ago?"
It was an unexpected question, and though Karma's eyes thinned as if concentrating on finding an answer, Gant knew that he already knew it.
*****
The two men sat facing each other at a table in the courthouse café. Though their meetings had always been a strange mixture of the pleasurable and antagonistic, there was a different sort of tension in Karma now. When they first met that afternoon, he had looked Gant straight in the eye as they spoke. A quick glare followed by distracted indifference would a more typical reaction.
It was when Karma was being his most honest that Gant knew he was lying.
"It's been six months," Gant remarked amiably enough.
"You can count," Karma snorted. "It has indeed been six months."
The idea that Karma might have actually been hiding something from him was fascinating. "I thought taking vacation time was against your code of honor," he continued. "And yet, I heard you even left the country."
"I was visiting my wife in Berlin. That should hardly be surprising, considering we have a two year old daughter."
"Ah, yes. How is little Franziska?" Gant was never in much of a mood to hear about that particular aspect of Karma's "family life," but it was only polite to ask.
"She is developing satisfactorily." Only a man like Karma could come up with such an impersonal description of his own offspring. "But we're not here to talk about her, are we?" He shifted in his chair, as if unable to find a comfortable position. There was stiffness in his frame that Gant couldn't account for. "You want to ask me something."
Gant considered the many different ways to approach his old comrade. "You know me," he said casually. "My curiosity is insatiable. And is it not customary to ask a coworker about their vacation, upon their return?"
Irritation flashed in Karma's eyes, but as he shifted again something seemed to come over him. "It was…eventful," he answered carefully. "I've taken in a boy."
"A boy?" That sounded absolutely scandalous, but Karma's sharp glare destroyed the train of thought. "You mean, a child?" Gant supposed.
"Yes. I've adopted a child."
"That's…" Gant pursed his lips. "…unexpected."
"There is a purpose to it." For the first time since they'd taken their seats, Karma gave his tea a stir and took a sip. "Do you remember our talk?" he asked abruptly. "Fifteen years ago?"
Gant needed barely a moment to recall exactly the date Karma had in mind.
*****
The two men stretched back to back beneath Gant's stiff cotton sheets. Several minutes after their vigorous intercourse Gant was still having trouble getting his breath completely even. Perhaps he was starting to "feel his age" after all. After only their second time that night he was feeling winded.
Of course, he was never too tired to tease his little Manny. "I finally got you into a proper bed," he said, grinning into the darkness.
"If you can call it 'proper'," Karma was quick to complain. "Your sheets feel like sandpaper."
"We can't all be paid as well as prosecutors. But if they're so awful, next time you should invite me to your bed."
Karma stretched, the bony curve of his shoulder blades pressed against Gant's back. "Not likely."
Gant chuckled. Truly, he had never taken such a disagreeable lover. He rolled over, draping his broad body over Karma's to press him into the mattress. "When are you going to admit that you really do like me, Manny?" he whined playfully. When Karma grunted and tried to shove him off, Gant only smothered him with more of his weight. "Maybe I shouldn't let you up until you do."
He pressed a sloppy kiss to Karma's pale neck. "Do you think it's like fate?" he asked, mostly sarcastic, as he pushed platinum blonde hair out of his way. "That two men like us would end up in the same district, working together, sleeping together…"
Karma grumbled, but despite his vocal protests he tilted his chin to invite each kiss at the same time. "Do you really believe in things like that?" he asked.
"Not really," Gant confessed. "Luck, maybe." He smirked as he pushed at Karma's shoulder, urging him to roll onto his stomach. Karma fought back just enough. "Sometimes, the right opportunity falls into your lap at just the right moment." He smirked. "Why, do you?"
"No." Karma sighed as he finally gave in, letting Gant climb over him. "I am always in control."
Gant chuckled deeply, and gave his shoulder a bite. "Even now?"
"Of course." Karma's voice finally regained its hint of humor. "Especially now."
*****
"I remember," Gant assured, glad he was not the blushing type. "Why do you ask?"
Karma took another sip from his tea. "You asked how my vacation was," he answered deliberately, each word as perfectly articulated as any argument he gave in court. "But I know what it is you really want to ask me. And the answer is yes."
"Yes?" Gant echoed, honestly confused but also intrigued. Karma was always supposing that he knew Gant better than he did himself.
"Yes." Karma met his eyes seriously once more. "I am still in control."
Normally, such a declaration would have indicated the absolute opposite; Gant had sat in on enough interrogations to know. But in watching Karma then, Gant believed him, realizing that Karma had answered exactly the question he hadn't known he wanted to ask.
"Especially now," he quoted, amused. There were other questions he could have asked to follow up Karma's declaration, but he was satisfied. An enigma like Manfred von Karma was best enjoyed in little tastes at a time. "I am glad to hear it."
*****
"I remember," Karma said. "Why do you ask?"
Gant tipped his chin up slightly. Even now, he had the impression that Karma's sharp eyes were seeing right through him. Surely he already knew the question on Gant's mind, and was only asking at all as a means of demeaning him. "You know."
Karma was the one behind bars. Karma was the one awaiting execution. But when he glared at his visitor, the hardness behind his eyes convinced Gant that nothing had changed. He folded his hands on the table as he waited for Karma to say what he already knew.
"The answer is no."
Unexpected. "No…?"
"No," Karma repeated sternly. "You are not in control anymore."
Gant's brow furrowed. Though he couldn't say he had gone so far as to rehearse this encounter, he'd had his expectations, and suddenly each of them had been disrupted with a single word. "No," he said again, "we're not talking about me."
"Aren't we?" Karma gave his shoulder a brief rub. "It's always been about you."
"I'm here to find out from you," Gant insisted, becoming irrationally irritated. "You've been planning this for fifteen years, and now you're going to die because of it. If I'd known you were in over your head--"
Karma gave a short spasm, and it wasn't until his cold voice emptied out of him that Gant realized it was in laughter. "Gant. Haven't you had enough by now?"
The cryptic responses were finally inciting Gant's temper; his leather gloves squealed as his fingers tightened around each other. "Maybe I shouldn't have come after all."
"It doesn't matter. You'll be here soon enough." Karma flashed him a bitter smirk. "It wasn't fate, you know. It just couldn't have happened any other way."
Suddenly fed up with him, Gant rose from his seat. "Tell yourself that, then. Prison is making you weak, old man. You can't read me as well as you used to."
"Can't I?" Karma watched him, looking vaguely unimpressed. "You're worried, aren't you? That boy of mine ruined me. That's what you wanted to know: if that was part of my plan all along as well. I was perfect. How could it have happened, if I did not plan for it?"
The slight clench behind Gant's ribs told him, again, that Karma was right. He tried not to let that trepidation show in his face. "And?"
"And…like I said, no," Karma reiterated. "I was…not perfect." Those words almost didn't make sense, when formed in his voice. "And neither are you."
And that was it. Gant stood staring at him a moment longer, expecting some addition to his explanation. But Karma only signaled for the guard, who came to escort him out of his chair. The former prosecutor granted his visitor a nod of his head. "Goodbye, Damon."
Gant's jaw worked for a moment before he could respond.
*****
*****
"Goodbye, Manny."
Karma shot him a glare as they parted outside the court house. He was still angry with his newly christened police chief, but no more than Gant had expected. They would work things out. They were still a team, and would be working together as efficiently as ever soon enough.
Thunder rumbled overhead, and as Gant lifted his head, a few drops of cold rain fell on his face. One in particular slid down his neck and under the collar of his coat, making him shiver.
He shook himself, thinking he should smirk against the clouds for their melodramatic sense of foreboding. But for some reason it just wasn't funny.
Thanks to silverwind9 for beta-ing it for me :D