[lucky 7s] 4.2.1 - george elliot quote
The important work of moving the world forward does not wait to be done by perfect men.
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NOTE: Arthur is son_of_avalon and is used with great love and knowledge of his mun.
He had to admit, there were a lot of unusual things a man could see, walking through a New York City police station. A man in a business suit being questioned by a detective wasn’t one of those things.
A firefighter being calmly escorted through the bullpen in handcuffs, however, was a whole different story.
“Dulac! You got a visitor!”
Looking up from his bunk, it took Lance a full thirty seconds to remember seeing the snotty looking kid in the three-piece suit when he’d been brought in. Lance did his best to be patient with everyone, including the white collar pinheads that had been the bane of his existence growing up. They were usually the ones that got him suspended from school or even arrested, all because they thought they could treat people like crap.
There was something…different about the kid in front of his cell, though, an indiscernible earthiness that relaxed Lance’s guard. The level way he held his gaze, the way he folded his arms so casually with no regard for wrinkling whatever Brooks Brothers masterpiece he was wearing.
“You’re with the FDNY?”
Lance shrugged, pointing to the logo on his t-shirt. “Read ‘em and weep. Squad 252 outta Brooklyn.”
“Were you arrested on duty?”
“Yes, sir.” He could have slapped himself, but it didn’t feel wrong. This guy commanded respect.
“Why?”
“Simple: I sucker punched a guy walkin’ past the station.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Yeah.”
There was a long pause, then a raised eyebrow from the suit.
“All due respect, but what’s it to ya?”
The suit shrugged in a manner Lance recognized. It was a working man’s shrug, easy and heartfelt. Not an up and down, but a roll, like he’d been working a long day and could use his own ambivalence to ease a knot or two from his beaten up shoulders.
“Not every day you see a firefighter get hauled in, and even less often you see someone go quietly.”
Lance snorted, shaking his head…then finally decided he had nothing to lose.
“Saw him on a call couple weeks ago, popped his kid in the mouth while we were workin’ on his moms. Gave him my word I’d smash him the way he smashed that kid if I ever saw him again.”
“Did you report it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you not trust the authorities to correct the situation?”
“I did…’till I saw him again. His son was with him.”
The suit went still, then nodded again. He stole the briefest glance over his shoulder before turning back to Lance and offering his hand through the bars.
“My name is Arthur Penn…it’s good to meet you, and if you’re not opposed? I’d like to get you out of here. Bond, legal counsel, whatever it takes.”
He eyed the hand warily, lifting his eyes to Penn’s. “What’s the catch?”
“Don’t waste taxpayer dollars: call me next time you get arrested, so I can get you out quickly. You’re doing the city a lot more good out there than you are in here.”
He took a moment to think about it, to test his gut…and at the end, he found himself nodding and reaching out to shake the other man’s hand.
“Lance Dulac…and I just gotta warn you, bro, I get hauled in here ‘bout three or four times a year so I hope yer wallet’s pretty fat.”
“You get hauled in for the same kind of shit?”
Something about hearing him swear made Lance relax just a little more as he nodded. “Yeah…same kinda shit.”
Arthur just smiled as he released Lance’s hand, a smile he felt compelled to return…it was a smile that just begged for trouble, a smile that made Lance sure he was going to make a friend of this guy.
“Then I won’t worry, Mr. Dulac…it’s money well spent.”
Muse: Lance Dulac
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 650
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NOTE: Arthur is son_of_avalon and is used with great love and knowledge of his mun.
He had to admit, there were a lot of unusual things a man could see, walking through a New York City police station. A man in a business suit being questioned by a detective wasn’t one of those things.
A firefighter being calmly escorted through the bullpen in handcuffs, however, was a whole different story.
“Dulac! You got a visitor!”
Looking up from his bunk, it took Lance a full thirty seconds to remember seeing the snotty looking kid in the three-piece suit when he’d been brought in. Lance did his best to be patient with everyone, including the white collar pinheads that had been the bane of his existence growing up. They were usually the ones that got him suspended from school or even arrested, all because they thought they could treat people like crap.
There was something…different about the kid in front of his cell, though, an indiscernible earthiness that relaxed Lance’s guard. The level way he held his gaze, the way he folded his arms so casually with no regard for wrinkling whatever Brooks Brothers masterpiece he was wearing.
“You’re with the FDNY?”
Lance shrugged, pointing to the logo on his t-shirt. “Read ‘em and weep. Squad 252 outta Brooklyn.”
“Were you arrested on duty?”
“Yes, sir.” He could have slapped himself, but it didn’t feel wrong. This guy commanded respect.
“Why?”
“Simple: I sucker punched a guy walkin’ past the station.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Yeah.”
There was a long pause, then a raised eyebrow from the suit.
“All due respect, but what’s it to ya?”
The suit shrugged in a manner Lance recognized. It was a working man’s shrug, easy and heartfelt. Not an up and down, but a roll, like he’d been working a long day and could use his own ambivalence to ease a knot or two from his beaten up shoulders.
“Not every day you see a firefighter get hauled in, and even less often you see someone go quietly.”
Lance snorted, shaking his head…then finally decided he had nothing to lose.
“Saw him on a call couple weeks ago, popped his kid in the mouth while we were workin’ on his moms. Gave him my word I’d smash him the way he smashed that kid if I ever saw him again.”
“Did you report it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you not trust the authorities to correct the situation?”
“I did…’till I saw him again. His son was with him.”
The suit went still, then nodded again. He stole the briefest glance over his shoulder before turning back to Lance and offering his hand through the bars.
“My name is Arthur Penn…it’s good to meet you, and if you’re not opposed? I’d like to get you out of here. Bond, legal counsel, whatever it takes.”
He eyed the hand warily, lifting his eyes to Penn’s. “What’s the catch?”
“Don’t waste taxpayer dollars: call me next time you get arrested, so I can get you out quickly. You’re doing the city a lot more good out there than you are in here.”
He took a moment to think about it, to test his gut…and at the end, he found himself nodding and reaching out to shake the other man’s hand.
“Lance Dulac…and I just gotta warn you, bro, I get hauled in here ‘bout three or four times a year so I hope yer wallet’s pretty fat.”
“You get hauled in for the same kind of shit?”
Something about hearing him swear made Lance relax just a little more as he nodded. “Yeah…same kinda shit.”
Arthur just smiled as he released Lance’s hand, a smile he felt compelled to return…it was a smile that just begged for trouble, a smile that made Lance sure he was going to make a friend of this guy.
“Then I won’t worry, Mr. Dulac…it’s money well spent.”
Muse: Lance Dulac
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 650