Guilty Pleasures (90)
Title: Guilty Pleasures
Fandom: Crossing Jordan
Characters: Oliver, Matt
Prompt: 090. Home
Word Count: 438
Rating: R
Summary: Oliver thinks.
Author's Notes: Wrote this while trying to sleep yesterday. Meg, Lee: I apologize. ^^;
He had learned a lot about Matt Seely in the past months.
There were only three complaints against Matt on his record, two from Dr. Macy and one from a suspect who claimed that Matt had ‘verbally harassed’ him; the detective had been cleared on all but the first complaint from Dr. Macy, and really, a complaint from Dr. Macy was like a gift from Santa Clause: It was expected. There was no hint of corruption, like so many of the others, no spots of over-eager vigilance or questionable warrants to mar the near-perfect surface of the detective’s exemplary career.
He’d learned about Matt’s family as well. His father was rich, but he’d struck out to make his own way. Commendable, though given the current circumstances, not the smartest choice. He went back home for Christmas unless he had to work, he was a dedicated uncle to his sister’s children, and he even sent his mother a birthday card every year.
What he found most interesting was the detective’s schooling. He’d attended a prestigious private school in Rhode Island, managing mostly As and a few Bs. He’d done well enough to get in Harvard, Boston University, and a handful of other schools. His father had wanted him to go to Harvard, obviously, but Boston University had been the detective’s final decision. He’d graduated with honors and a degree in law, which was an interesting footnote. Oliver wondered briefly if police work was Matt’s first choice, or if he’d rather have been one of Ms. Walcott’s minions instead.
Oliver smiled, trying to imagine the detective as, well, as not a detective, and he found he couldn’t.
Honestly, Seely wasn’t that bad of a guy, despite what Garret had often said about him. And if he hadn’t been a part of that cockamamie scheme, that ridiculous, disgraceful slipup with the tea and the scotch and the theatrics of the curtain-well. Oliver might have found it in his heart to let the good detective live if-
If, if, if…he sighed to himself. Ifs were dangerous. Ifs were where people screwed up. He pressed the gun against Matt’s temple, giving the sleeping detective just enough time to open his eyes before pulling the trigger. He grabbed a handful of the sheets, wiping the blood splatter from his face.
He really hadn’t been such a bad guy. He’d just ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Such a silly mistake. The detective should have known better; he’d graduated from Boston University with honors, after all.
He glanced over the body once more.
It really was a waste.
Such a pity.
Fandom: Crossing Jordan
Characters: Oliver, Matt
Prompt: 090. Home
Word Count: 438
Rating: R
Summary: Oliver thinks.
Author's Notes: Wrote this while trying to sleep yesterday. Meg, Lee: I apologize. ^^;
He had learned a lot about Matt Seely in the past months.
There were only three complaints against Matt on his record, two from Dr. Macy and one from a suspect who claimed that Matt had ‘verbally harassed’ him; the detective had been cleared on all but the first complaint from Dr. Macy, and really, a complaint from Dr. Macy was like a gift from Santa Clause: It was expected. There was no hint of corruption, like so many of the others, no spots of over-eager vigilance or questionable warrants to mar the near-perfect surface of the detective’s exemplary career.
He’d learned about Matt’s family as well. His father was rich, but he’d struck out to make his own way. Commendable, though given the current circumstances, not the smartest choice. He went back home for Christmas unless he had to work, he was a dedicated uncle to his sister’s children, and he even sent his mother a birthday card every year.
What he found most interesting was the detective’s schooling. He’d attended a prestigious private school in Rhode Island, managing mostly As and a few Bs. He’d done well enough to get in Harvard, Boston University, and a handful of other schools. His father had wanted him to go to Harvard, obviously, but Boston University had been the detective’s final decision. He’d graduated with honors and a degree in law, which was an interesting footnote. Oliver wondered briefly if police work was Matt’s first choice, or if he’d rather have been one of Ms. Walcott’s minions instead.
Oliver smiled, trying to imagine the detective as, well, as not a detective, and he found he couldn’t.
Honestly, Seely wasn’t that bad of a guy, despite what Garret had often said about him. And if he hadn’t been a part of that cockamamie scheme, that ridiculous, disgraceful slipup with the tea and the scotch and the theatrics of the curtain-well. Oliver might have found it in his heart to let the good detective live if-
If, if, if…he sighed to himself. Ifs were dangerous. Ifs were where people screwed up. He pressed the gun against Matt’s temple, giving the sleeping detective just enough time to open his eyes before pulling the trigger. He grabbed a handful of the sheets, wiping the blood splatter from his face.
He really hadn’t been such a bad guy. He’d just ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Such a silly mistake. The detective should have known better; he’d graduated from Boston University with honors, after all.
He glanced over the body once more.
It really was a waste.
Such a pity.