I'm Like a Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off {TABLE 36}
Summary: Bandom AU; Ryan and Pete fake!hate each other, oh and they'e cops.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue { table.}
"Smile for my camera." Ryan said, holding up his fancy camera and snapping a few pictures. Pete stepped away from the window quickly. Who's window? Brendon Urie's girlfriend's window. That's who's.
"What are you doing here, Ross?" Pete hissed. Ryan shrugged and smirked.
"Stump let is slip that you were out here. Wilson heard and wanted you caught." Ryan made small gestures with his hands to emphasize that Wilson had sent him.
"Damn it, Pat." Pete muttered to himself. Ryan smiled at Pete's short frame and watched as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Well, what do you want, Ross?" Pete hissed. Ryan shrugged again. Ryan figured Pete wouldn't believe any answer he gave, so he went with the truth.
"I guess I just wanted to see you, Pete." Ryan let that irresistible grin spread across his lips as Pete froze momentarily. It didn't take him long to recover and when he did all he could get out was a scoff.
"Fine, then. If you're not needing anything, I'll be leaving now." Pete announced, a little too loudly.
"Alright, remember though, the next time I shoot you, it won't be digitally. Unless I hit your finger. Then, we'll laugh about it." Ryan chortled at his own joke. Pete rolled his eyes and began to walk briskly towards his car.
"See ya, Ross." He called behind him. Ryan frowned softly to himself. He'd thought he would of gotten to spend a bit more time with Pete when he volunteered for Brent.
"Wentz, wait!" Ryan called hesitantly. He still intended to spend time with Pete. Pete stopped and turned to face Ryan slowly. "Can I get a ride back to the station?" Ryan asked in a small voice.
"Fine," Pete replied grudgingly. "Come on. I have to be on time for Wilson's meeting." He shouted as he turned again. Ryan chuckled to himself and followed Pete to the boring, blue Ford that Pete was so faithful to. Ryan reached for the radio absently. Pete swatted his hand away quickly and spun the dial himself, seemingly searching for something. He stopped on a echoing song.
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want.
"What's this?" Ryan asked curiously about halfway into the song. Pete very nearly stopped the car.
"Are you kidding?!" he gasped. Ryan shook his head slowly. "Ross, what the fuck were you doing at seventeen?" he laughed. Ryan shrugged, not wanting to answer. At seventeen Ryan had been studying ridiculously hard and doing all he could just to get into community college. "It's Blink - 182, kiddo." Pete said softly, trying to hide the laughter still apparent in his voice.
Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?
"It's good." Ryan commented. He was understating. The song was amazing. They arrived at the station as the song was ending and headed inside silently.
"Wait, this isn't right." Officer Walker stopped the two just inside.
"Oh, bugger off, Jon." Ryan rolled his eyes. Pete smiled briefly towards Ryan despite his slight dislike of the boy.
"Ryan Ross and Pete Wentz in the same vicinity? No way." Andy gasped in fake shock.
"Hurley, I think the Armageddon is upon us." Jon grinned. Ryan & Pete pushed past the two, a swift smile passing between the two before they parted ways. Pete towards his cubicle and Ryan towards his. Ironically, but not coincidently, Ryan and Pete had adjacent desks. Not directly adjacent, because Officers Smith and Trohman were between them, but still always catching eyes briefly. Pete rarely thought twice about it, except for the days he was feeling unusually paranoid, and Ryan lived for it. He liked Pete. A lot. Of course, Pete has no idea and Ryan has no intention to do so.
"Everyone in room 3. Now!" Officer Wilson barked from him office door. The officers moved towards the aforementioned room lazily while Brent watched them with narrow eyes. Once all seven men were situated and waiting the conference room, Brent joined them.
"It's May. Am I right?" He began loudly.
"It is." Andy agreed smugly. Andy Hurley was probably the closest officer too Wilson. They holed up in his office a lot to talk about the recent ratings, cases, and whatever else the others couldn't hear.
"Right. So, it's May and that ass hat is still out there?"
"If you're referring to Brendon Urie, sir, then yes. He is." Pete said in a businesslike tone with a hint of smugness is his voice too.
"Why?!" Wilson shouted. Ryan jumped slightly.
"He's using aliases; fake credit cards, drivers licenses, hell, I'm pretty sure the kid dyed his hair too." Officer Walker was quick to defend everyone. Even though Jon and Andy were good friends, Andy never let it affect their work. Jon knew Andy would choose Brent's side over his in work related arguments any day.
"And?!" Wilson spat.
"I don't think it's the first priority on our list." Ryan mumbled. Pete stared at him incredulously. Ryan was a cocky guy, generally, but only around the officers. He's the new kid, so he stays quiet around the sheriff and he never speaks at meetings.
"What?" Wilson hissed. Ryan looked terrified but he spoke anyway.
"What this guy did wasn't that bad. I think-"
"Wasn't that bad? He killed a human being." Officer Trohman interrupted.
"Yea, but the guy he killed was a rapist." Officer Smith added. Ryan sent him a quick, grateful smile.
"He was still a person." Andy said loudly, trying to gain control of the argument.
"A person that, otherwise, would of been sent to jail once caught. So, what harm did Urie really do?" Officer Walker smirked in Hurley's direction. Walker was just teasing.
"It doesn't matter who he killed, why he killed, or how he killed. All that matters is that he killed and didn't get reprimanded. That's our job! Joe, Andy, Jon, get it done. Tonight." He leaned towards each guy in turn. They nodded & left the room quietly.
"Now, Stump and Smith, I want you guys patrolling tonight, alright?"
"Sounds good," Patrick mumbled, flashing a smile towards Spencer.
"Good, your shift will start at eight."
"Sweet. Like, ten minutes of free time." Spencer joked. Wilson didn't react and the two left the room.
"Pete!" Wilson shouted loudly, and almost excitedly, as the Patrick shut the door behind him. Ryan jumped again, this time blushing in embarrassment.
"Yea, Brent?" Pete replied. He suppressed smiling when he heard Ryan's gasp of surprise. No one, not even Andy, called Sheriff Wilson by his first name. Except, the short boy that had been assigned his room mate all through their whole two and a half years at college. Brent's eyes narrowed but he didn't comment.
"You have heard about phosphoric case, yes?" Pete wondered briefly why Ryan was here for this before answering.
"I may have read up on it this morning when I was supposed to be on a coffee run." He replied calmly.
"Then, you heard of the new installments?" He asked. Pete nodded carefully.
"I know about it, Brent." He said plainly, clearly bored with the useless game.
"Good, tonight you study up, retrace, analyze, track, and check the background of each guy. Got it?" He ordered firmly. Pete nodded, shook hands with Brent briefly, and left the room just like the others. Ryan had just been regarding Wilson carefully but now that he was alone with him he felt worried. Wilson gave Ryan a quick glance before perching himself on the edge of the table beside the boy. "Hey, Ross." Ryan looked up at the man. "If you ever try to undermine in front of everyone again, I will, personally, get you kicked out of this place. Understand?" He said in a low menacing voice. Ryan swallowed his fear and nodded curtly.
"Yes, sir." He managed to choke out.
"Good, now go home. I don't a cocky bastard like yourself working with me right now." Wilson said as he stood and straightened out his uniform.
"But, sir, could-"
"Go. Home. Ross." He said firmly. Ryan knew Wilson meant business, so he left silently. Once outside the office door he rushed towards the privacy of the single bathroom. After a few deep breaths, splashing water on his face, and drying off, Ryan felt like his old, brave, cocky self again. So, clearly Ryan wouldn't be spending anymore time with Pete today. Ryan hated that fact and he didn't like Wilson anymore for assigning Pete a solo project. What the hell was the Phosphoric case anyway? He didn't know but he knew he wanted to spend time with Pete. Maybe he could. Ryan took one more deep breath before walking back to the cubicles. He looked around searching for Pete, but he only found Spencer and Patrick in their respective cubicles, waiting for their shift to start.
"Hey, where'd Pete go?" Ryan asked Stump quietly. If anyone, Patrick was the guy Pete was close to.
"Home." Stump laughed. Ryan sighed and headed outside. His green Honda was waiting faithfully, parked behind the building in it's repetitive place. He climbed and sighed again. What to do now? He has no work to do. Pete's not here. He's at home. Ryan doesn't know Pete's address. Wait, maybe he could get it. Ryan, grinning with his new idea, rushed out of the car and back inside.
"I thought you left?" Spencer said upon his return. Ryan went straight to his desk and happily found that he'd left his compute on.
"I need an address." He said in response to Spencer as he typed Pete's full name and phone number into their recognition program.
"For who?" Patrick asked curiously.
"A . . . friend." He tried. Pete didn't really count as a friend but he couldn't tell them it was Pete, so what else to say. Neither responded. Ryan grabbed a pack of blue sticky notes and scribbled down Pete's address as it appeared across the screen. He also took in the fact that Pete lived alone and had two bull dogs. Ryan loved this station . . . and bulldogs. Well, he loves them now. Pete didn't live far from the station and Ryan was thankful for that. Without giving himself time to think, Ryan dashed outside and booked it over to Pete's building. Four flights of stairs and thirty-two deep breaths later, Ryan was knocking curtly on Pete's door. He heard Pete mumbling obscenities, the deep voice growing louder as it reached the door.
"What?" He asked exasperatedly before noticing it was Ryan. "What are you doing here?" Pete asked quickly, suspiciously.
"Uh, Wilson sent me. To help you." Ryan lied on the spot. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of a cover on the way over.
"He did?" Ryan swallowed and nodded while bouncing on his heels.
"Y-yea."
"Alright," Pete muttered, swinging the door fully open. Ryan looked around curiously as he stepped in. The bigger dog was stretched out in front of the couch and the other was in a large chair.
"Cute dogs," Ryan smiled swiftly.
"Uh, yea. That's Hemingway and Rigby." He said, gesturing from the floor to the chair.
"So, the writer and. . . ?" He didn't know why Rigby was named so.
"The Beatles song." Pete smiled wistfully. Ryan made an expression of recognition and stood tentatively by the window.
"So, what do we have to do?"
"Well, I'm cross referencing each guy with their aliases and checking for any similarities while I wait for the analysis of Red's blood to finish-"
"Whoa, I don't think you're even speaking English, Pete." Ryan stopped him, then felt strange using his first name. Pete paused for a moment, and then ignored the use of his first name.
"You know what phosphoric means, yes?" He asked. Ryan nodded.
"A solid element existing in at least three allotropic forms, one that is yellow, one that is red, and another that is black."
"Right. The yellow one is poisonous, flammable, and luminous in the dark. Lucas Lewis is Yellow. He uses poisons and fire, a lot. He also got radiation poisoning as a kid and kind of glows in the dark-"
"Sweet," Ryan grinned.
"Yea, for him. Anyway, Remus Tortilla is Red. He's poisonous & flammable, like Luke, but not as much. Lastly, Fletcher Cross is black. Hardly flammable, uses smoke screens, and really hard to get rid of."
"Insoluble." Ryan added. Pete nodded.
"So, that's the gist of it. They're running a brothel like drug ring. It's all screwed up and seriously starting to worry some people. The only problem is, we can't fucking find them to catch them."
"Oh," Ryan replied in a small voice.
"Yep, so we're going to redo everything." Pete said, clapping his hands once in confidence. Ryan, feeling it was okay by now to do so, sat down in the chair with Rigby, scratching the dogs ears absently. Pete moved to sit on the couch and Ryan noticed that he didn't look even remotely comfortable in his own home. Maybe it was because Ryan was here.
"So, let's get to work." Ryan motivated.
"We are working." Pete deadpanned. Ryan's cheeks blushed and he instantly felt bad. Well, he did until Pete started laughing.
"You jack ass." Ryan mumbled as he caught on.
"No, but seriously. We are working." Pete gestured to three computers humming quietly. "This one-" He rested a hand on the computer that looked like it was good at one time, maybe circa 1987? "-is cross referencing Tortilla and Lewis while this one," He stands and moves toward the flat screen on the desk. "This one's running the cross reference of Fletcher and Luke. While this baby," Pete sighs contently as he moves over to the sleek, black laptop sitting on the coffee table. "This one's telling me the scores, stats, and current activity of every sports game going on right now." He grinned mischievously up at Ryan. Ryan forced a grin back. He'd never been into sports - Well, he liked the simple ones, like Na-scar or Tennis, and he'd watched many a football games with friends, but only to seem normal. Those friends never lasted long anyway. - and he wasn't about to admit that to Pete.
"What's running the analysis?"
"Huh?" Pete said absently, his eyes and hands on the laptop.
"Red- I mean, Remus- Or, um- Tortilla's blood." Ryan had no idea what to call the guy. He didn't even know what he looked like. "You said his blood analysis was running?"
"Oh, right. I've got a lab in the back. It's running in there."
"Wait, you have a lab in your house?" Ryan didn't believe it.
"It's nothing special." Pete muttered, his attention on the floor now. "Just a few more computers, an analyzing machine, and the recognition program." Pete sent a small smile towards Ryan. "Do you wanna see it?" He asked like a little kid who just discovered a new trick. Ryan bit his lip nervously and nodded. Pete grabbed Ryan's wrist quickly & practically dragged him towards the open doorway on the back wall. Ryan went along with it and laced his fingers with Pete's as they entered the 'lab.' Pete didn't react to Ryan's doings. He was smiling proudly, looking around the room. Ryan did the same and smiled too. It was almost an exact replica of the lab at the station.
"Nice." Ryan chuckled.
"Come on, I'll show you some other stuff." Ryan didn't argue. He'd be perfectly happy walking on coals as long as Pete's hand stayed intertwined with his. Pete lead - Yea, he stopped the dragging- them out of the lab and into the next door.
"Library?" Ryan asked obviously. Pete nodded uselessly. Three of the four walls held bookshelves full of, you guessed it, books.
"These are my favorite." Pete said quietly, pulling Ryan towards the farthest bookshelf. "The Sun Also Rises." Pete said in a matter-of-fact tone, running a finger along the bind of the book.
"Hemingway's first book; Written in 1925, published in 1926, and turned to film in 1957, no?" Ryan smirked, glad he'd been good at English.
"Yea," The look of surprise on Pete's face was so perfect that Ryan wanted to frame it. Without thinking, Ryan brought his hand up to Pete's face, tracing the jaw line from his ear and ending at his lips. In the next second, Pete roughly pressed Ryan against the shelf, holding his arms too tight but full of too much adrenaline to care. Ryan didn't get a chance to let out the string of expletives he'd prepared because Pete's lips were on his forcefully. Ryan didn't care that this was quick and made no sense at all. He wasn't even thinking as Pete moved them towards the couch that looked as if it belonged in a therapist's office. Pete was on top. Ryan didn't care, he just wanted Pete's lip to stay on his. The rough insensibility stopped and Pete laced their fingers together again. Ryan was glad because, even though he wasn't thinking, he didn't know what to do with his hands. Touching Pete's hair was out of the question. Pete loved his hair & hated it to be messed up. Ryan was the same way.
"You know, I think I really am falling in love with you." Ryan said between kisses. Pete froze at the word love and Ryan didn't notice until he kissed Pete and got no reaction. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Ryan froze too. He hadn't meant to say that. He wasn't thinking! He was caught up in the euphoria an- Oh, shit. Pete sat up slowly. He was still straddling Ryan's waist.
"Wilson didn't send you." Pete concluded quietly. Ryan shook his head shamefully. "Y-you hate me." Pete said, as if trying to convince them both. Ryan shook his head again, but this time earnestly. He didn't dare try and speak. The last time hadn't worked out so well for him, so far. Pete shook his head in disbelief and dismounted silently. As he did, Ryan sat up so Pete could sit down. Pete didn't.
"Pete," He tried to speak but Pete shook his head some more and Ryan stopped.
"So, let me just get this straight. You lied to me, you pretended to hate me, and all along you were 'falling in love' with me?" Pete asked slowly, the anger ringing in his voice. Ryan resisted a smirk as he stood to look Pete in the eyes.
"Well, two out of three isn't bad." He said softly. "I never, ever, claimed to hate you." He reminded. Pete face showed that he was thinking back. Each time they'd been paired together. Every bust, research project, and interrogation. Ryan had never even uttered the word 'hate', let alone pointed it towards the shorter officer. Ryan stared at his feet and then back to Pete, surprised to see the hint of a smile of his lips. "W-what?" He stutters and blushes.
"It's a good thing you don't hate me," Pete moved closer to Ryan, their bodies pressing together. "Because I don't hate you too much either." He whispered, his breath mixing with Ryan's. The temptation was way too much for Pete. His hand flew to the back of Pete's neck and the other to his waist. He pulled them both onto the couch, returning to their earlier position as lips collided fervently.
"Pete," Ryan moaned involuntarily. It was just..Pete's tongue.
"Ry, I think I'm falling in love with you too."
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue { table.}
"Smile for my camera." Ryan said, holding up his fancy camera and snapping a few pictures. Pete stepped away from the window quickly. Who's window? Brendon Urie's girlfriend's window. That's who's.
"What are you doing here, Ross?" Pete hissed. Ryan shrugged and smirked.
"Stump let is slip that you were out here. Wilson heard and wanted you caught." Ryan made small gestures with his hands to emphasize that Wilson had sent him.
"Damn it, Pat." Pete muttered to himself. Ryan smiled at Pete's short frame and watched as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Well, what do you want, Ross?" Pete hissed. Ryan shrugged again. Ryan figured Pete wouldn't believe any answer he gave, so he went with the truth.
"I guess I just wanted to see you, Pete." Ryan let that irresistible grin spread across his lips as Pete froze momentarily. It didn't take him long to recover and when he did all he could get out was a scoff.
"Fine, then. If you're not needing anything, I'll be leaving now." Pete announced, a little too loudly.
"Alright, remember though, the next time I shoot you, it won't be digitally. Unless I hit your finger. Then, we'll laugh about it." Ryan chortled at his own joke. Pete rolled his eyes and began to walk briskly towards his car.
"See ya, Ross." He called behind him. Ryan frowned softly to himself. He'd thought he would of gotten to spend a bit more time with Pete when he volunteered for Brent.
"Wentz, wait!" Ryan called hesitantly. He still intended to spend time with Pete. Pete stopped and turned to face Ryan slowly. "Can I get a ride back to the station?" Ryan asked in a small voice.
"Fine," Pete replied grudgingly. "Come on. I have to be on time for Wilson's meeting." He shouted as he turned again. Ryan chuckled to himself and followed Pete to the boring, blue Ford that Pete was so faithful to. Ryan reached for the radio absently. Pete swatted his hand away quickly and spun the dial himself, seemingly searching for something. He stopped on a echoing song.
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want.
"What's this?" Ryan asked curiously about halfway into the song. Pete very nearly stopped the car.
"Are you kidding?!" he gasped. Ryan shook his head slowly. "Ross, what the fuck were you doing at seventeen?" he laughed. Ryan shrugged, not wanting to answer. At seventeen Ryan had been studying ridiculously hard and doing all he could just to get into community college. "It's Blink - 182, kiddo." Pete said softly, trying to hide the laughter still apparent in his voice.
Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?
"It's good." Ryan commented. He was understating. The song was amazing. They arrived at the station as the song was ending and headed inside silently.
"Wait, this isn't right." Officer Walker stopped the two just inside.
"Oh, bugger off, Jon." Ryan rolled his eyes. Pete smiled briefly towards Ryan despite his slight dislike of the boy.
"Ryan Ross and Pete Wentz in the same vicinity? No way." Andy gasped in fake shock.
"Hurley, I think the Armageddon is upon us." Jon grinned. Ryan & Pete pushed past the two, a swift smile passing between the two before they parted ways. Pete towards his cubicle and Ryan towards his. Ironically, but not coincidently, Ryan and Pete had adjacent desks. Not directly adjacent, because Officers Smith and Trohman were between them, but still always catching eyes briefly. Pete rarely thought twice about it, except for the days he was feeling unusually paranoid, and Ryan lived for it. He liked Pete. A lot. Of course, Pete has no idea and Ryan has no intention to do so.
"Everyone in room 3. Now!" Officer Wilson barked from him office door. The officers moved towards the aforementioned room lazily while Brent watched them with narrow eyes. Once all seven men were situated and waiting the conference room, Brent joined them.
"It's May. Am I right?" He began loudly.
"It is." Andy agreed smugly. Andy Hurley was probably the closest officer too Wilson. They holed up in his office a lot to talk about the recent ratings, cases, and whatever else the others couldn't hear.
"Right. So, it's May and that ass hat is still out there?"
"If you're referring to Brendon Urie, sir, then yes. He is." Pete said in a businesslike tone with a hint of smugness is his voice too.
"Why?!" Wilson shouted. Ryan jumped slightly.
"He's using aliases; fake credit cards, drivers licenses, hell, I'm pretty sure the kid dyed his hair too." Officer Walker was quick to defend everyone. Even though Jon and Andy were good friends, Andy never let it affect their work. Jon knew Andy would choose Brent's side over his in work related arguments any day.
"And?!" Wilson spat.
"I don't think it's the first priority on our list." Ryan mumbled. Pete stared at him incredulously. Ryan was a cocky guy, generally, but only around the officers. He's the new kid, so he stays quiet around the sheriff and he never speaks at meetings.
"What?" Wilson hissed. Ryan looked terrified but he spoke anyway.
"What this guy did wasn't that bad. I think-"
"Wasn't that bad? He killed a human being." Officer Trohman interrupted.
"Yea, but the guy he killed was a rapist." Officer Smith added. Ryan sent him a quick, grateful smile.
"He was still a person." Andy said loudly, trying to gain control of the argument.
"A person that, otherwise, would of been sent to jail once caught. So, what harm did Urie really do?" Officer Walker smirked in Hurley's direction. Walker was just teasing.
"It doesn't matter who he killed, why he killed, or how he killed. All that matters is that he killed and didn't get reprimanded. That's our job! Joe, Andy, Jon, get it done. Tonight." He leaned towards each guy in turn. They nodded & left the room quietly.
"Now, Stump and Smith, I want you guys patrolling tonight, alright?"
"Sounds good," Patrick mumbled, flashing a smile towards Spencer.
"Good, your shift will start at eight."
"Sweet. Like, ten minutes of free time." Spencer joked. Wilson didn't react and the two left the room.
"Pete!" Wilson shouted loudly, and almost excitedly, as the Patrick shut the door behind him. Ryan jumped again, this time blushing in embarrassment.
"Yea, Brent?" Pete replied. He suppressed smiling when he heard Ryan's gasp of surprise. No one, not even Andy, called Sheriff Wilson by his first name. Except, the short boy that had been assigned his room mate all through their whole two and a half years at college. Brent's eyes narrowed but he didn't comment.
"You have heard about phosphoric case, yes?" Pete wondered briefly why Ryan was here for this before answering.
"I may have read up on it this morning when I was supposed to be on a coffee run." He replied calmly.
"Then, you heard of the new installments?" He asked. Pete nodded carefully.
"I know about it, Brent." He said plainly, clearly bored with the useless game.
"Good, tonight you study up, retrace, analyze, track, and check the background of each guy. Got it?" He ordered firmly. Pete nodded, shook hands with Brent briefly, and left the room just like the others. Ryan had just been regarding Wilson carefully but now that he was alone with him he felt worried. Wilson gave Ryan a quick glance before perching himself on the edge of the table beside the boy. "Hey, Ross." Ryan looked up at the man. "If you ever try to undermine in front of everyone again, I will, personally, get you kicked out of this place. Understand?" He said in a low menacing voice. Ryan swallowed his fear and nodded curtly.
"Yes, sir." He managed to choke out.
"Good, now go home. I don't a cocky bastard like yourself working with me right now." Wilson said as he stood and straightened out his uniform.
"But, sir, could-"
"Go. Home. Ross." He said firmly. Ryan knew Wilson meant business, so he left silently. Once outside the office door he rushed towards the privacy of the single bathroom. After a few deep breaths, splashing water on his face, and drying off, Ryan felt like his old, brave, cocky self again. So, clearly Ryan wouldn't be spending anymore time with Pete today. Ryan hated that fact and he didn't like Wilson anymore for assigning Pete a solo project. What the hell was the Phosphoric case anyway? He didn't know but he knew he wanted to spend time with Pete. Maybe he could. Ryan took one more deep breath before walking back to the cubicles. He looked around searching for Pete, but he only found Spencer and Patrick in their respective cubicles, waiting for their shift to start.
"Hey, where'd Pete go?" Ryan asked Stump quietly. If anyone, Patrick was the guy Pete was close to.
"Home." Stump laughed. Ryan sighed and headed outside. His green Honda was waiting faithfully, parked behind the building in it's repetitive place. He climbed and sighed again. What to do now? He has no work to do. Pete's not here. He's at home. Ryan doesn't know Pete's address. Wait, maybe he could get it. Ryan, grinning with his new idea, rushed out of the car and back inside.
"I thought you left?" Spencer said upon his return. Ryan went straight to his desk and happily found that he'd left his compute on.
"I need an address." He said in response to Spencer as he typed Pete's full name and phone number into their recognition program.
"For who?" Patrick asked curiously.
"A . . . friend." He tried. Pete didn't really count as a friend but he couldn't tell them it was Pete, so what else to say. Neither responded. Ryan grabbed a pack of blue sticky notes and scribbled down Pete's address as it appeared across the screen. He also took in the fact that Pete lived alone and had two bull dogs. Ryan loved this station . . . and bulldogs. Well, he loves them now. Pete didn't live far from the station and Ryan was thankful for that. Without giving himself time to think, Ryan dashed outside and booked it over to Pete's building. Four flights of stairs and thirty-two deep breaths later, Ryan was knocking curtly on Pete's door. He heard Pete mumbling obscenities, the deep voice growing louder as it reached the door.
"What?" He asked exasperatedly before noticing it was Ryan. "What are you doing here?" Pete asked quickly, suspiciously.
"Uh, Wilson sent me. To help you." Ryan lied on the spot. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of a cover on the way over.
"He did?" Ryan swallowed and nodded while bouncing on his heels.
"Y-yea."
"Alright," Pete muttered, swinging the door fully open. Ryan looked around curiously as he stepped in. The bigger dog was stretched out in front of the couch and the other was in a large chair.
"Cute dogs," Ryan smiled swiftly.
"Uh, yea. That's Hemingway and Rigby." He said, gesturing from the floor to the chair.
"So, the writer and. . . ?" He didn't know why Rigby was named so.
"The Beatles song." Pete smiled wistfully. Ryan made an expression of recognition and stood tentatively by the window.
"So, what do we have to do?"
"Well, I'm cross referencing each guy with their aliases and checking for any similarities while I wait for the analysis of Red's blood to finish-"
"Whoa, I don't think you're even speaking English, Pete." Ryan stopped him, then felt strange using his first name. Pete paused for a moment, and then ignored the use of his first name.
"You know what phosphoric means, yes?" He asked. Ryan nodded.
"A solid element existing in at least three allotropic forms, one that is yellow, one that is red, and another that is black."
"Right. The yellow one is poisonous, flammable, and luminous in the dark. Lucas Lewis is Yellow. He uses poisons and fire, a lot. He also got radiation poisoning as a kid and kind of glows in the dark-"
"Sweet," Ryan grinned.
"Yea, for him. Anyway, Remus Tortilla is Red. He's poisonous & flammable, like Luke, but not as much. Lastly, Fletcher Cross is black. Hardly flammable, uses smoke screens, and really hard to get rid of."
"Insoluble." Ryan added. Pete nodded.
"So, that's the gist of it. They're running a brothel like drug ring. It's all screwed up and seriously starting to worry some people. The only problem is, we can't fucking find them to catch them."
"Oh," Ryan replied in a small voice.
"Yep, so we're going to redo everything." Pete said, clapping his hands once in confidence. Ryan, feeling it was okay by now to do so, sat down in the chair with Rigby, scratching the dogs ears absently. Pete moved to sit on the couch and Ryan noticed that he didn't look even remotely comfortable in his own home. Maybe it was because Ryan was here.
"So, let's get to work." Ryan motivated.
"We are working." Pete deadpanned. Ryan's cheeks blushed and he instantly felt bad. Well, he did until Pete started laughing.
"You jack ass." Ryan mumbled as he caught on.
"No, but seriously. We are working." Pete gestured to three computers humming quietly. "This one-" He rested a hand on the computer that looked like it was good at one time, maybe circa 1987? "-is cross referencing Tortilla and Lewis while this one," He stands and moves toward the flat screen on the desk. "This one's running the cross reference of Fletcher and Luke. While this baby," Pete sighs contently as he moves over to the sleek, black laptop sitting on the coffee table. "This one's telling me the scores, stats, and current activity of every sports game going on right now." He grinned mischievously up at Ryan. Ryan forced a grin back. He'd never been into sports - Well, he liked the simple ones, like Na-scar or Tennis, and he'd watched many a football games with friends, but only to seem normal. Those friends never lasted long anyway. - and he wasn't about to admit that to Pete.
"What's running the analysis?"
"Huh?" Pete said absently, his eyes and hands on the laptop.
"Red- I mean, Remus- Or, um- Tortilla's blood." Ryan had no idea what to call the guy. He didn't even know what he looked like. "You said his blood analysis was running?"
"Oh, right. I've got a lab in the back. It's running in there."
"Wait, you have a lab in your house?" Ryan didn't believe it.
"It's nothing special." Pete muttered, his attention on the floor now. "Just a few more computers, an analyzing machine, and the recognition program." Pete sent a small smile towards Ryan. "Do you wanna see it?" He asked like a little kid who just discovered a new trick. Ryan bit his lip nervously and nodded. Pete grabbed Ryan's wrist quickly & practically dragged him towards the open doorway on the back wall. Ryan went along with it and laced his fingers with Pete's as they entered the 'lab.' Pete didn't react to Ryan's doings. He was smiling proudly, looking around the room. Ryan did the same and smiled too. It was almost an exact replica of the lab at the station.
"Nice." Ryan chuckled.
"Come on, I'll show you some other stuff." Ryan didn't argue. He'd be perfectly happy walking on coals as long as Pete's hand stayed intertwined with his. Pete lead - Yea, he stopped the dragging- them out of the lab and into the next door.
"Library?" Ryan asked obviously. Pete nodded uselessly. Three of the four walls held bookshelves full of, you guessed it, books.
"These are my favorite." Pete said quietly, pulling Ryan towards the farthest bookshelf. "The Sun Also Rises." Pete said in a matter-of-fact tone, running a finger along the bind of the book.
"Hemingway's first book; Written in 1925, published in 1926, and turned to film in 1957, no?" Ryan smirked, glad he'd been good at English.
"Yea," The look of surprise on Pete's face was so perfect that Ryan wanted to frame it. Without thinking, Ryan brought his hand up to Pete's face, tracing the jaw line from his ear and ending at his lips. In the next second, Pete roughly pressed Ryan against the shelf, holding his arms too tight but full of too much adrenaline to care. Ryan didn't get a chance to let out the string of expletives he'd prepared because Pete's lips were on his forcefully. Ryan didn't care that this was quick and made no sense at all. He wasn't even thinking as Pete moved them towards the couch that looked as if it belonged in a therapist's office. Pete was on top. Ryan didn't care, he just wanted Pete's lip to stay on his. The rough insensibility stopped and Pete laced their fingers together again. Ryan was glad because, even though he wasn't thinking, he didn't know what to do with his hands. Touching Pete's hair was out of the question. Pete loved his hair & hated it to be messed up. Ryan was the same way.
"You know, I think I really am falling in love with you." Ryan said between kisses. Pete froze at the word love and Ryan didn't notice until he kissed Pete and got no reaction. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Ryan froze too. He hadn't meant to say that. He wasn't thinking! He was caught up in the euphoria an- Oh, shit. Pete sat up slowly. He was still straddling Ryan's waist.
"Wilson didn't send you." Pete concluded quietly. Ryan shook his head shamefully. "Y-you hate me." Pete said, as if trying to convince them both. Ryan shook his head again, but this time earnestly. He didn't dare try and speak. The last time hadn't worked out so well for him, so far. Pete shook his head in disbelief and dismounted silently. As he did, Ryan sat up so Pete could sit down. Pete didn't.
"Pete," He tried to speak but Pete shook his head some more and Ryan stopped.
"So, let me just get this straight. You lied to me, you pretended to hate me, and all along you were 'falling in love' with me?" Pete asked slowly, the anger ringing in his voice. Ryan resisted a smirk as he stood to look Pete in the eyes.
"Well, two out of three isn't bad." He said softly. "I never, ever, claimed to hate you." He reminded. Pete face showed that he was thinking back. Each time they'd been paired together. Every bust, research project, and interrogation. Ryan had never even uttered the word 'hate', let alone pointed it towards the shorter officer. Ryan stared at his feet and then back to Pete, surprised to see the hint of a smile of his lips. "W-what?" He stutters and blushes.
"It's a good thing you don't hate me," Pete moved closer to Ryan, their bodies pressing together. "Because I don't hate you too much either." He whispered, his breath mixing with Ryan's. The temptation was way too much for Pete. His hand flew to the back of Pete's neck and the other to his waist. He pulled them both onto the couch, returning to their earlier position as lips collided fervently.
"Pete," Ryan moaned involuntarily. It was just..Pete's tongue.
"Ry, I think I'm falling in love with you too."