Story Update : Leaving Chapter 10 part 4
final part...
Folders, pens, notebooks, and an assortment of other supplies went flying as Smoker threw everything off his desk in anger. This time the assholes hit a little too close to home, and he was going to make sure they paid. From the corner of his eye, he could see the others in the office eyeing him wearily, waiting for him to finally crack. If it hadn’t been for the strict order he’d received, he would have already broken, and that pissed him off even more.
Three hours ago, Hina had been attacked. Smoker knew this because she called him from where she laid, covered with blood in an alley behind a rundown market store. Fortunately, most of the blood belonged to her attackers, but still. The hospital was keeping her overnight for observation due to the blow to her head, but assured the overprotective man that his friend would be fine in a few days. None of the assailants were conscious to question, one even in critical condition, so at the moment Smoker had no one to take his anger out on. Resisting the urge to throw the desk out the window, Smoker snatched his coat and stormed out of his office, raising a hand in warning to Tashigi as the young woman tried to speak to him.
Garp watched him leave, holding back his grin long enough for the pissed off man to be out of sight. The chief’s body tingled with mischievousness as he thought about an earlier call. Sometimes it was good to play dumb, but sometimes the truth was so much more fun. Garp wondered if there would be anything left on the block when his favorite detective got home.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Smoker saw him the instant he turned onto his street. It didn’t matter that the detective’s house was a quarter mile down with a slight curve in the road; he saw him. Or maybe it was more correct to say he felt him. That shiver that creeps up your spine when you know something extraordinary is about to happen, the clammy hands sweating with anticipation, the heat that begins to build in your gut. Smoker knew without a doubt who would be in his driveway, and damn it to hell if he wasn’t looking forward to it.
The garage door was up, and an old Ford pickup sat occupying the right side. Tools were strewn all over, along with shop towels and bits of clothing. Smoker’s brand new turbine heater was plugged in and blowing full blast, heating up the garage and probably half the outside too. Sticking out from under the open hood of the truck he could see cargo shorts, bare legs, and untied black boots. Turning the radio off in his car, Smoker could hear the familiar sounds of Ace’s favorite music blaring from the small stereo sitting on the workbench. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d probably damage some tools in the process, Smoker thought about pulling into the garage and running the intruder over. Instead, he settled for hitting the siren and smirking devilishly when Ace jumped a foot, smacking his head on the underside of the hood and cursing loudly.
Ace stumbled out, revealing his bare torso and rubbed his head, sending a nasty look towards the unmarked car as he moved to the side, allowing the sedan to enter. How the man had gotten in wasn’t in question, considering Ace’s respect for privacy, but why the fool had returned was unknown. Whatever had brought him here must be important though, considering… Smoker shook his head to clear the memory and opened the car door. He hadn’t fully gotten out before Ace spoke.
“Hey, Taisa, you know that heater of yours can use anything from jet fuel to kerosene. I have to get me one.” Ace hopped up on the side of the truck bed and watched as Smoker carefully made his way around to the front of the car. “I couldn’t find the shop towels I usually use, so I opened up that new pack you had on the shelves.”
“What are you doing here Portgas?” Smoker knew avoiding him would be impossible, so he might as well get this over with as soon as possible.
“How’s Hina doing?”
The sudden question caught him off guard and Smoker took a moment to process it. “She’ll live.”
“Good. I heard about what happened but Gramps wouldn’t let me in to see her.” Ace slipped down from his seat. “I have some friends looking-”
“Don’t get involved, Portgas. I’ve already had some complaints about your friends poking around the Baratie.” Smoker began working his way around the garage; picking up scattered tools and placing them neatly back in their respective spots. A familiar keychain, that should have been in his glove box, stared back at him from the workbench. The last time he remembered seeing it, he had been searching for the key to Zoro’s apartment. Smoker wondered if maybe his passenger had somehow snagged it and passed it on. He looked over to the truck that was leaking some kind of fluid all over the garage floor. “Get that piece of junk out of here before I have it towed to the scrap yard.”
“Hey, this is a classic, made the same year you were born.” Ace grinned, obviously very proud of the fact.
Smoker took another look at the body style and decided that he was definitely way too old. The truck had to be early to mid 70’s, nowhere near old enough to be called a classic. Classics were Chevy Corvairs, Corvettes with teardrop finders, or maybe even a Ford Fairlane. Smoker rubbed his temples in effort to subdue the headache that had begun to form. Fingers carded through his short hair and for a moment, he almost gave in to the gentle touch. With a flick of his wrist, he smacked Ace’s hand away and turned away. “Just… move it. I don’t have time for this shit tonight.”
“Then when?” Ace held Smoker’s stern glare when the detective looked over at him, a hint of irritation in the raven’s eyes. “You might be satisfied with how things turned out, but I’m not.”
“You lied to me. Do you have any idea what would have happen to my career if you were convicted? I’d lose everything.” Smoker pushed his way past Ace to unplug the turbine. The heater kicked off, sending a rush of cold air back into the garage, and making Ace shiver.
“It looks like you already have.” Ace’s voice was dead, lifeless, and unlike his normal cheery alto. “I’ll be going then. Sorry for the intrusion.”
Ace gathered up his shirt and jacket, as well as the second pair of pants he must have been wearing over the shorts. Smoker recognized the lamb’s wool collar of the bomber jacket that had been his birthday gift to Ace last year. Just before he passed, Ace darted in and place his lips firmly against Smoker’s, letting them linger a moment before pulling slowly away.
“Goodbye Detective.”
The words sounded final, as if this were truly the end. That, combined with the empty look in Ace’s eyes told Smoker that this would be the last he would ever see of the brat. His troubles would be over, and there would be no need to double check each lock on the windows at night. No more idle wondering, no more intrusions in his office, no more anything. When Ace left, he wouldn’t be coming back.
Pain gripped at Smoker’s chest and he felt for a moment that he’d been shot. Up until now, he’d been able to disillusion himself with lies and pour his every waking moment into the current case. Soon the case would be solved, and lies were getting harder to hold on to. Too many nights he had already woke up reaching for someone who wasn’t there.
The instant Ace’s hand touched the chrome latch Smoker was on him, spinning the raven around and slamming him into the cab of the truck. They instantly latched on to each other, Smoker’s hands burning as they ran up tanned skin to tangle into silken black hair. Mouths met in desperation as they kissed, each trying to convey what words seemingly couldn’t. Ace whimpered slightly and turned his head away as they came up for air.
“Smoker…”
“Don’t speak.” Smoker began to nip at the soft skin of Ace’s throat.
“Ah.. Tai-“ Ace began struggling a little.
“Shut up Portgas,” the detective growled as he rolled his hips forward, pleased with the pleasured moan he got in return.
“Door latch,” Ace finally managed to get out.
Smoker paused, realizing the reason for the unwelcome interruption, and pulled Ace with him as he fell back against his car, reversing their positions. Ace shivered again, and Smoker could feel the tiny prickle of goose bumps on his skin. He opened his eyes and looked out the where the garage door should have been, groaning as he noticed one of his neighbors gaping at them from across the street. With almost no effort, he grabbed Ace’s ass in both hands and lifted him, pleased when long legs instantly wrapped around his waist. Smoker managed to blindly hit the close button as they stumbled into the house, his own impatience combining with Ace’s desperation as they literally began ripping off each other’s clothes.
The buttons from Smoker’s shirt went flying and the detective retaliated by slamming his lover down on the kitchen table, deciding that it was much closer than the bedroom upstairs. Ace shed his shorts quickly as Smoker shoved his own jeans down his hips, neither bothering with removing any more than necessary. Smoker snarled when the heels of Ace’s boots bit into his lower back, but never said a word as he stood between Ace’s thighs and leaned down to reclaim the raven’s lips. Their passion was short and frenzied as they both struggled to keep any means of composure about them. Ace’s nails dug into the loose shirt still covering Smoker’s back and threw his head back as he screamed out his lover’s name.
Smoker’s body shook slightly before relaxing and he took in several deep breaths to help slow his heart back down. He refused to look at Ace as he pulled back and stepped away, hoisting his pants up as he turned to walk down the hall. Inside his body was singing, but his mind was in turmoil. For the last six months, Smoker had done everything possible to forget about what they once had, but the instant he feared the brat was gone for good, he panicked. All rational thinking had flown out the window as soon as his hand touched that luscious sun-kissed body and now he was paying the price. One look in the bathroom mirror and Smoker knew he was fucked, in more ways than one. The detective reached over and turned on the shower, setting it to slightly warmer than he normally liked and let his clothes fall to the floor. The door opened behind him and he waited until he heard the thud of heavy boots hitting the floor before he stepped into the spray. When tanned arms began to circle him, he didn’t resist. Nor did he stop Ace as the raven stirred his desire once more. He’d arrest the brat for something one of these days, but until then… He’d just have to keep his blinds closed.
Folders, pens, notebooks, and an assortment of other supplies went flying as Smoker threw everything off his desk in anger. This time the assholes hit a little too close to home, and he was going to make sure they paid. From the corner of his eye, he could see the others in the office eyeing him wearily, waiting for him to finally crack. If it hadn’t been for the strict order he’d received, he would have already broken, and that pissed him off even more.
Three hours ago, Hina had been attacked. Smoker knew this because she called him from where she laid, covered with blood in an alley behind a rundown market store. Fortunately, most of the blood belonged to her attackers, but still. The hospital was keeping her overnight for observation due to the blow to her head, but assured the overprotective man that his friend would be fine in a few days. None of the assailants were conscious to question, one even in critical condition, so at the moment Smoker had no one to take his anger out on. Resisting the urge to throw the desk out the window, Smoker snatched his coat and stormed out of his office, raising a hand in warning to Tashigi as the young woman tried to speak to him.
Garp watched him leave, holding back his grin long enough for the pissed off man to be out of sight. The chief’s body tingled with mischievousness as he thought about an earlier call. Sometimes it was good to play dumb, but sometimes the truth was so much more fun. Garp wondered if there would be anything left on the block when his favorite detective got home.
-/-/-/-/-/-
Smoker saw him the instant he turned onto his street. It didn’t matter that the detective’s house was a quarter mile down with a slight curve in the road; he saw him. Or maybe it was more correct to say he felt him. That shiver that creeps up your spine when you know something extraordinary is about to happen, the clammy hands sweating with anticipation, the heat that begins to build in your gut. Smoker knew without a doubt who would be in his driveway, and damn it to hell if he wasn’t looking forward to it.
The garage door was up, and an old Ford pickup sat occupying the right side. Tools were strewn all over, along with shop towels and bits of clothing. Smoker’s brand new turbine heater was plugged in and blowing full blast, heating up the garage and probably half the outside too. Sticking out from under the open hood of the truck he could see cargo shorts, bare legs, and untied black boots. Turning the radio off in his car, Smoker could hear the familiar sounds of Ace’s favorite music blaring from the small stereo sitting on the workbench. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d probably damage some tools in the process, Smoker thought about pulling into the garage and running the intruder over. Instead, he settled for hitting the siren and smirking devilishly when Ace jumped a foot, smacking his head on the underside of the hood and cursing loudly.
Ace stumbled out, revealing his bare torso and rubbed his head, sending a nasty look towards the unmarked car as he moved to the side, allowing the sedan to enter. How the man had gotten in wasn’t in question, considering Ace’s respect for privacy, but why the fool had returned was unknown. Whatever had brought him here must be important though, considering… Smoker shook his head to clear the memory and opened the car door. He hadn’t fully gotten out before Ace spoke.
“Hey, Taisa, you know that heater of yours can use anything from jet fuel to kerosene. I have to get me one.” Ace hopped up on the side of the truck bed and watched as Smoker carefully made his way around to the front of the car. “I couldn’t find the shop towels I usually use, so I opened up that new pack you had on the shelves.”
“What are you doing here Portgas?” Smoker knew avoiding him would be impossible, so he might as well get this over with as soon as possible.
“How’s Hina doing?”
The sudden question caught him off guard and Smoker took a moment to process it. “She’ll live.”
“Good. I heard about what happened but Gramps wouldn’t let me in to see her.” Ace slipped down from his seat. “I have some friends looking-”
“Don’t get involved, Portgas. I’ve already had some complaints about your friends poking around the Baratie.” Smoker began working his way around the garage; picking up scattered tools and placing them neatly back in their respective spots. A familiar keychain, that should have been in his glove box, stared back at him from the workbench. The last time he remembered seeing it, he had been searching for the key to Zoro’s apartment. Smoker wondered if maybe his passenger had somehow snagged it and passed it on. He looked over to the truck that was leaking some kind of fluid all over the garage floor. “Get that piece of junk out of here before I have it towed to the scrap yard.”
“Hey, this is a classic, made the same year you were born.” Ace grinned, obviously very proud of the fact.
Smoker took another look at the body style and decided that he was definitely way too old. The truck had to be early to mid 70’s, nowhere near old enough to be called a classic. Classics were Chevy Corvairs, Corvettes with teardrop finders, or maybe even a Ford Fairlane. Smoker rubbed his temples in effort to subdue the headache that had begun to form. Fingers carded through his short hair and for a moment, he almost gave in to the gentle touch. With a flick of his wrist, he smacked Ace’s hand away and turned away. “Just… move it. I don’t have time for this shit tonight.”
“Then when?” Ace held Smoker’s stern glare when the detective looked over at him, a hint of irritation in the raven’s eyes. “You might be satisfied with how things turned out, but I’m not.”
“You lied to me. Do you have any idea what would have happen to my career if you were convicted? I’d lose everything.” Smoker pushed his way past Ace to unplug the turbine. The heater kicked off, sending a rush of cold air back into the garage, and making Ace shiver.
“It looks like you already have.” Ace’s voice was dead, lifeless, and unlike his normal cheery alto. “I’ll be going then. Sorry for the intrusion.”
Ace gathered up his shirt and jacket, as well as the second pair of pants he must have been wearing over the shorts. Smoker recognized the lamb’s wool collar of the bomber jacket that had been his birthday gift to Ace last year. Just before he passed, Ace darted in and place his lips firmly against Smoker’s, letting them linger a moment before pulling slowly away.
“Goodbye Detective.”
The words sounded final, as if this were truly the end. That, combined with the empty look in Ace’s eyes told Smoker that this would be the last he would ever see of the brat. His troubles would be over, and there would be no need to double check each lock on the windows at night. No more idle wondering, no more intrusions in his office, no more anything. When Ace left, he wouldn’t be coming back.
Pain gripped at Smoker’s chest and he felt for a moment that he’d been shot. Up until now, he’d been able to disillusion himself with lies and pour his every waking moment into the current case. Soon the case would be solved, and lies were getting harder to hold on to. Too many nights he had already woke up reaching for someone who wasn’t there.
The instant Ace’s hand touched the chrome latch Smoker was on him, spinning the raven around and slamming him into the cab of the truck. They instantly latched on to each other, Smoker’s hands burning as they ran up tanned skin to tangle into silken black hair. Mouths met in desperation as they kissed, each trying to convey what words seemingly couldn’t. Ace whimpered slightly and turned his head away as they came up for air.
“Smoker…”
“Don’t speak.” Smoker began to nip at the soft skin of Ace’s throat.
“Ah.. Tai-“ Ace began struggling a little.
“Shut up Portgas,” the detective growled as he rolled his hips forward, pleased with the pleasured moan he got in return.
“Door latch,” Ace finally managed to get out.
Smoker paused, realizing the reason for the unwelcome interruption, and pulled Ace with him as he fell back against his car, reversing their positions. Ace shivered again, and Smoker could feel the tiny prickle of goose bumps on his skin. He opened his eyes and looked out the where the garage door should have been, groaning as he noticed one of his neighbors gaping at them from across the street. With almost no effort, he grabbed Ace’s ass in both hands and lifted him, pleased when long legs instantly wrapped around his waist. Smoker managed to blindly hit the close button as they stumbled into the house, his own impatience combining with Ace’s desperation as they literally began ripping off each other’s clothes.
The buttons from Smoker’s shirt went flying and the detective retaliated by slamming his lover down on the kitchen table, deciding that it was much closer than the bedroom upstairs. Ace shed his shorts quickly as Smoker shoved his own jeans down his hips, neither bothering with removing any more than necessary. Smoker snarled when the heels of Ace’s boots bit into his lower back, but never said a word as he stood between Ace’s thighs and leaned down to reclaim the raven’s lips. Their passion was short and frenzied as they both struggled to keep any means of composure about them. Ace’s nails dug into the loose shirt still covering Smoker’s back and threw his head back as he screamed out his lover’s name.
Smoker’s body shook slightly before relaxing and he took in several deep breaths to help slow his heart back down. He refused to look at Ace as he pulled back and stepped away, hoisting his pants up as he turned to walk down the hall. Inside his body was singing, but his mind was in turmoil. For the last six months, Smoker had done everything possible to forget about what they once had, but the instant he feared the brat was gone for good, he panicked. All rational thinking had flown out the window as soon as his hand touched that luscious sun-kissed body and now he was paying the price. One look in the bathroom mirror and Smoker knew he was fucked, in more ways than one. The detective reached over and turned on the shower, setting it to slightly warmer than he normally liked and let his clothes fall to the floor. The door opened behind him and he waited until he heard the thud of heavy boots hitting the floor before he stepped into the spray. When tanned arms began to circle him, he didn’t resist. Nor did he stop Ace as the raven stirred his desire once more. He’d arrest the brat for something one of these days, but until then… He’d just have to keep his blinds closed.