FIC: "Grief", Joe Fontana/Arthur Branch
Title: Grief
Author: hawkeyecat
Fandom: Law & Order
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Joe Fontana/Arthur Branch. Maybe.
Theme: E is for Esoteric: intended for or understood by only a particular group; of or relating to that which is known by a restricted number of people; confined to a small group; not publicly disclosed; confidential.
Word Count: 542
Author’s Notes: Blame for the pairing should be directed to amazonqueenkate for challenging me and sarcasticsra for reminding me. Then again, I wrote it, so I’m partially to blame. There is character death.
Ed stood stiffly at attention, Anita by his side, as the casket was lowered into the ground. The irony of burying Joe Fontana, of all cops, with full honors didn’t escape either, but the higher-ups had insisted. Supposedly, he had been gunned down while apprehending a suspect; in reality, the growing conflict between the L-12 and la famiglia made a hit seem far more likely.
Glancing furtively across the solid mahogany coffin-no way the department had paid for that-the top barely visible above the dirt, Ed caught side of the district attorney’s contingent. Borgia looked honestly upset, but judging by the mulish expression on McCoy’s face, he was there under duress. Or maybe he was wishing he could spit on Joe’s grave-Ed wasn’t sure, and wouldn’t put it past the ADA. Beside him, Branch was expressionless, but there was a glint to his eye that Ed suspected was a tear.
Ed mentally shook himself. No way was Branch crying over Fontana. The man was a conservative, anti-crime bear; he should be pleased to be rid of such a dirty cop. As far as Ed could remember, Joe and the DA had hardly met. It made no sense for Branch to grieve.
Ed’s eyes narrowed slightly. Maybe they’d known each other outside work, been friends-but Joe had never mentioned anything of the sort.
Van Buren’s elbow hit his side, and Ed blinked. The service had ended while he thought, and most people were already leaving. Branch still stood in his place, staring at the gash in the earth. McCoy was walking as fast as he could while keeping his dignity toward the street, presumably to catch a taxi, but Ed caught up easily.
“McCoy!”
Jack turned and waited for him. “Detective.”
“What’s goin’ on with Branch?”
Jack shrugged expressively. “I don’t know, or particularly care.”
“You’d think he was mourning,” Ed pressed.
Glancing back toward Branch, Jack’s eyebrows rose. “I wasn’t aware he knew your partner all that well.”
“Makes two of us,” Ed muttered, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.
Jack frowned, then shrugged again. “For all I know, they went bowling together. They could have even been seeing each other. I don’t know much about Arthur’s personal life.”
Ed shot him a startled look. “Mr. Conservative?”
“There’s no evidence about anything beyond the loss of a cop.” Shrugging seemed to be McCoy’s preferred body language today. “However, I will point out that he’s the only one still over there.”
Ed turned thoughtful. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
“It’s none of my business,” Jack said blandly. He smirked suddenly. “If it got out, though, he’d lose the next election by a landslide.”
“That’s low, man.” Ed choked back a laugh.
“Which is why I wouldn’t say anything. An anonymous tip to the right paper, however…”
“Seriously, did you?”
Jack shook his head. “Isn’t it a great thought, though?”
Ed looked back at Branch. “Might be if he didn’t look so torn up.”
Jack followed his line of sight and sighed. “You’re right, Detective. I’ll see you tomorrow morning about the Barani case?”
“Ten o’clock. I’ll be there.”
McCoy left, but Ed watched Branch for a few minutes longer. He was definitely mourning. Jack couldn’t be right, though…could he?
Author: hawkeyecat
Fandom: Law & Order
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Joe Fontana/Arthur Branch. Maybe.
Theme: E is for Esoteric: intended for or understood by only a particular group; of or relating to that which is known by a restricted number of people; confined to a small group; not publicly disclosed; confidential.
Word Count: 542
Author’s Notes: Blame for the pairing should be directed to amazonqueenkate for challenging me and sarcasticsra for reminding me. Then again, I wrote it, so I’m partially to blame. There is character death.
Ed stood stiffly at attention, Anita by his side, as the casket was lowered into the ground. The irony of burying Joe Fontana, of all cops, with full honors didn’t escape either, but the higher-ups had insisted. Supposedly, he had been gunned down while apprehending a suspect; in reality, the growing conflict between the L-12 and la famiglia made a hit seem far more likely.
Glancing furtively across the solid mahogany coffin-no way the department had paid for that-the top barely visible above the dirt, Ed caught side of the district attorney’s contingent. Borgia looked honestly upset, but judging by the mulish expression on McCoy’s face, he was there under duress. Or maybe he was wishing he could spit on Joe’s grave-Ed wasn’t sure, and wouldn’t put it past the ADA. Beside him, Branch was expressionless, but there was a glint to his eye that Ed suspected was a tear.
Ed mentally shook himself. No way was Branch crying over Fontana. The man was a conservative, anti-crime bear; he should be pleased to be rid of such a dirty cop. As far as Ed could remember, Joe and the DA had hardly met. It made no sense for Branch to grieve.
Ed’s eyes narrowed slightly. Maybe they’d known each other outside work, been friends-but Joe had never mentioned anything of the sort.
Van Buren’s elbow hit his side, and Ed blinked. The service had ended while he thought, and most people were already leaving. Branch still stood in his place, staring at the gash in the earth. McCoy was walking as fast as he could while keeping his dignity toward the street, presumably to catch a taxi, but Ed caught up easily.
“McCoy!”
Jack turned and waited for him. “Detective.”
“What’s goin’ on with Branch?”
Jack shrugged expressively. “I don’t know, or particularly care.”
“You’d think he was mourning,” Ed pressed.
Glancing back toward Branch, Jack’s eyebrows rose. “I wasn’t aware he knew your partner all that well.”
“Makes two of us,” Ed muttered, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets.
Jack frowned, then shrugged again. “For all I know, they went bowling together. They could have even been seeing each other. I don’t know much about Arthur’s personal life.”
Ed shot him a startled look. “Mr. Conservative?”
“There’s no evidence about anything beyond the loss of a cop.” Shrugging seemed to be McCoy’s preferred body language today. “However, I will point out that he’s the only one still over there.”
Ed turned thoughtful. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
“It’s none of my business,” Jack said blandly. He smirked suddenly. “If it got out, though, he’d lose the next election by a landslide.”
“That’s low, man.” Ed choked back a laugh.
“Which is why I wouldn’t say anything. An anonymous tip to the right paper, however…”
“Seriously, did you?”
Jack shook his head. “Isn’t it a great thought, though?”
Ed looked back at Branch. “Might be if he didn’t look so torn up.”
Jack followed his line of sight and sighed. “You’re right, Detective. I’ll see you tomorrow morning about the Barani case?”
“Ten o’clock. I’ll be there.”
McCoy left, but Ed watched Branch for a few minutes longer. He was definitely mourning. Jack couldn’t be right, though…could he?