Fic: Stichomythia
Title: Stichomythia
Author: phantomreviewer
Pairings/Characters: Pre-slash Chandler/Kent, Miles, OCs
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: ITV.
Warnings: Angst
A/N: Written for THIS prompt on the Whitechapel KinkMeme
Summary: Life wasn't an episode of CSI and there was rarely a happy ending, not for him.
Occasionally they apprehended criminals who thought that life operated like it did on television.
Criminals who believed that their crimes were taking place in an episode of The Bill, or Law and Order, or so fourth -they never seemed to realise that the criminal was always caught- that they could go out in a blaze of glory before the ending credits.
They weren't in a sequel to 'Hot Fuzz' for heavens sake and cries of "Fuck! Scarper, it's the Rozzers!" were so ridiculous in terms of heckling. They didn't achieve anything. Criminals wasted too much time antagonising the police, or shouting insults over their shoulders that it seemed peculiar that they had anytime to break the law at all.
Sometimes they combined them, goading and criminal activity. That didn't happen to them so much, it was the type of thing that happened on protests. Some of Whitechapel's riot police had been seconded to deal with the student protests. They'd come back paint splattered and spirits crushed.
Miles knew how to deal with those who thought that they could get away with verbal abuse. Moreover because he gave as good as good as he got. Something that always made Chandler feel slightly awkward, this wasn't Life on Mars, and policemen have boundaries for a reason.
Sometimes it was what was needed though, with insults flying thick and fast in the interview rooms. Lawyers didn't seem to realise that allowing their suspects to display mindless anger towards policemen with recording devices was almost worth more than the testimony that they gave.
There was one case straight off Silk. Fraud was never that interesting a case. But when it was the siphoning of funds into the bank account of Anderson's second in command Chandler had stepped in.
The insults were personal. Jefferson knew that he was caught, the thing when policemen broke the law was that they always that their game was up. It came of knowing the law too well. The police either made excellent or awful criminals on the pretence of knowing the theory behind the practice.
"Detective Sergeant Ray Miles and the officer present is-" "- Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler."
"Don't bother Joseph, the whole department knows about your little problems. No wonder you didn't want to touch the case with dirty money. Got it foisted on you. Had to wash your hands afterward I suppose. All you and your team of useless detectives is worth."
It would always be Miles to respond to such an accusation. Last time Chandler had he'd had his face broken over Jimmy Brooks' fist.
"That's enough of that Jefferson, we all know your sort. So shut up and start talking."
They knew they had their man, they knew he was guilty, a mere technicality of a case.
"Surprised at you. Thought you'd be too busy buggering that constable of yours to actually do your job."
Chandler flushed, and Miles, about to launch on another tirade, paused catching the widened and shocked look on Chandler's face.
Jefferson laughed, short and cruel.
"Excuse me gentlemen, this interview is paused at thirteen, thirty-nine."
The team were sitting on the other side of the two-way mirror. Kent and Mansell, wanting to see the case through to the end. It was too much to be revealed. Without his permission. If there was anything that Chandler needed, it was control.
He couldn't control his thoughts or his desires. And he hated himself for it. But he had been able to hold himself inwards, that which couldn't be hidden had to be suppressed.
And Jefferson had ripped it open with his callous words. The station couldn't really believe those where his thoughts, his reputation would be in tatters. Maybe it was worse that Jefferson just picked it out the air, maybe anyone could be saying that, thinking that about him. About Kent.
"Caught a sore spot did I?"
Jefferson laughed again, and kept laughing even as the door swung closed.
Author: phantomreviewer
Pairings/Characters: Pre-slash Chandler/Kent, Miles, OCs
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: ITV.
Warnings: Angst
A/N: Written for THIS prompt on the Whitechapel KinkMeme
Summary: Life wasn't an episode of CSI and there was rarely a happy ending, not for him.
Occasionally they apprehended criminals who thought that life operated like it did on television.
Criminals who believed that their crimes were taking place in an episode of The Bill, or Law and Order, or so fourth -they never seemed to realise that the criminal was always caught- that they could go out in a blaze of glory before the ending credits.
They weren't in a sequel to 'Hot Fuzz' for heavens sake and cries of "Fuck! Scarper, it's the Rozzers!" were so ridiculous in terms of heckling. They didn't achieve anything. Criminals wasted too much time antagonising the police, or shouting insults over their shoulders that it seemed peculiar that they had anytime to break the law at all.
Sometimes they combined them, goading and criminal activity. That didn't happen to them so much, it was the type of thing that happened on protests. Some of Whitechapel's riot police had been seconded to deal with the student protests. They'd come back paint splattered and spirits crushed.
Miles knew how to deal with those who thought that they could get away with verbal abuse. Moreover because he gave as good as good as he got. Something that always made Chandler feel slightly awkward, this wasn't Life on Mars, and policemen have boundaries for a reason.
Sometimes it was what was needed though, with insults flying thick and fast in the interview rooms. Lawyers didn't seem to realise that allowing their suspects to display mindless anger towards policemen with recording devices was almost worth more than the testimony that they gave.
There was one case straight off Silk. Fraud was never that interesting a case. But when it was the siphoning of funds into the bank account of Anderson's second in command Chandler had stepped in.
The insults were personal. Jefferson knew that he was caught, the thing when policemen broke the law was that they always that their game was up. It came of knowing the law too well. The police either made excellent or awful criminals on the pretence of knowing the theory behind the practice.
"Detective Sergeant Ray Miles and the officer present is-" "- Detective Inspector Joseph Chandler."
"Don't bother Joseph, the whole department knows about your little problems. No wonder you didn't want to touch the case with dirty money. Got it foisted on you. Had to wash your hands afterward I suppose. All you and your team of useless detectives is worth."
It would always be Miles to respond to such an accusation. Last time Chandler had he'd had his face broken over Jimmy Brooks' fist.
"That's enough of that Jefferson, we all know your sort. So shut up and start talking."
They knew they had their man, they knew he was guilty, a mere technicality of a case.
"Surprised at you. Thought you'd be too busy buggering that constable of yours to actually do your job."
Chandler flushed, and Miles, about to launch on another tirade, paused catching the widened and shocked look on Chandler's face.
Jefferson laughed, short and cruel.
"Excuse me gentlemen, this interview is paused at thirteen, thirty-nine."
The team were sitting on the other side of the two-way mirror. Kent and Mansell, wanting to see the case through to the end. It was too much to be revealed. Without his permission. If there was anything that Chandler needed, it was control.
He couldn't control his thoughts or his desires. And he hated himself for it. But he had been able to hold himself inwards, that which couldn't be hidden had to be suppressed.
And Jefferson had ripped it open with his callous words. The station couldn't really believe those where his thoughts, his reputation would be in tatters. Maybe it was worse that Jefferson just picked it out the air, maybe anyone could be saying that, thinking that about him. About Kent.
"Caught a sore spot did I?"
Jefferson laughed again, and kept laughing even as the door swung closed.