Like, Like Lunch (FAKE - Drake/JJ)
Title: Like, Like Lunch
Fandom: FAKE
Pairing/Character: JJ/Drake
Author: Murasaki-Dono
Recipient: Priscian
Warnings: m/m, language, AU version of “Like, Like Love” and spoilers for act 15, references to ‘Vive!’ and ‘Bad Day.’
Summary: Something happens when JJ and Drake go to lunch
Soundtrack: “For Once In My Life” - Tony Bennet and Stevie Wonder
Symbols: _italics_
Notes: While I have all respect for Sanami Matoh and her series; she even admits she doesn’t know much about New York City and New York City police requirements. Sharpshooters are members of the NYC SWAT
******
The red haired detective huffed as he climbed the last stairs to the roof of the precinct. He wearily shoved open the emergency door. Drake Parker felt angry; partially at former SWAT sniper Max Fork for the shot that collapsed and damaged his left lung, partially at the NYPD physical requirements for leaving him at a desk job, partially at Linda who had left him because he “couldn’t keep up with her.” He also reserved a portion of anger for himself because he was looking at thirty and looking at being alone again. He leaned against the parapet and sighed deeply.
“Hey, Drake!” called his partner, JJ Adams, flinging the door open with a bang. The SWAT sharpshooter was deceptively slender and wiry; but he was capable of running for five miles in fourty pounds of bulletproof armor and, through a riflescope, hit a target the size of a quarter. “Janet said you came up here. She said you were sulking, let me guess, you got dumped by your latest.”
“What business is it of yours? Or Janet’s for that matter? Somebody place a bet again?” Drake scowled.
“Not this time.”
“_This_ time?” Drake sputtered.
“Well, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before.” JJ leaned on the rooftop ledge.
“Oh, gee, thanks so much for the sympathy,” he snarled sarcastically.
“It’s not like I don’t understand what you’re feeling,” JJ rested his chin on his folded arms.
“Oh, yeah, your wonderful Dee Laytner. . .”
“I haven’t been after him since he and McLean hooked up.”
Drake goggled. “Ryo? Ryo and Dee?”
“Oh, come on,” JJ turned and stared at him. “You can’t be _that_ dense.”
Drake felt his face go warm. “I doubt it’s going to last, Dee gets bored too easy.” He felt a stab of self-pity and shook his head. “Aw, fuck this,” he dropped his elbows on the edge of the roof. “I don’t need a woman in my life. I can get by with just my career.” There had to be a way to advance. He wanted to be where he was needed.
“No,” JJ continued. “This was just a . . . thing, a summer fling that could never be, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when it had to end,” he sighed. He turned back and rested his chin on his crossed arms again.
“Oh, geez,” Drake fumbled for words. “Aw, come on, sad doesn’t suit you. There’ll be someone else. You’ll see. I should know; been there, done that and bought the t-shirt.” He reached out and touched JJ’s shoulder. “I mean, the Stones say ‘you can’t always get what you want, but if you try you get what you need.’ Why don’t you try going after what you need?”
JJ straightened, his face lighting up with delight. To Drake’s astonishment, he turned, grabbed Drake’s arms and kissed him. It was a nice kiss; a quick, sweet touch that sent a wave of pure shock through Drake. JJ was always one for hugging but _kissing_.
_Why me? _ Drake thought. _Why is he kissing me? _
“You’re right, that sounds like a good idea, I trust your judgment.” JJ smiled, “and on that note, let’s go get something to eat. I know just the place, come on.”
*******
Drake blinked as JJ Adams steered him into the small restaurant. It was within walking distance of St. Vincent’s Hospital. It was clearly old; the chrome and peeling vinyl on the stools of the counter proclaimed that. It was scrupulously clean and a white haired woman came out to greet them.
“JJ! Such a long time! Who is your friend?”
“Sophie!” JJ kissed her cheek. “This is Sophie Weinberger, she makes the best chicken soup in New York. Sophie, this is Drake Parker.”
“Ah!” said Sophie. “The young man you were always visiting in the hospital, yes? Welcome, welcome! You sit in one of the booths.” She shooed them into the back.
“Hey, JJ!” called another woman from the kitchen.
“Hey, Lenore!” JJ waved at her.
“You’d get the chicken soup here?” Drake asked.
“Every day without fail,” said Sophie, “such a lucky young man you are to have some one who cares for you like that.” She set two bowls before them. Drake smelled the rich, garlicky aroma of the soup he had fallen in love with as he recovered from his gunshot wound.
“Do you want something else, Drake?” asked JJ just a little anxiously.
“No, no, this is great,” Drake started eating. “I’d forgot how good this is.”
“Good,” JJ smiled again. It was a quieter smile, more like the way he smiled when he talked about his sister and his nieces.
Drake crumbled some crackers into the broth. “I was so miserable. Sheila said hospitals creeped her out and I told her to go to hell. You showed up every day with chicken soup and dumb gossip.” He felt confused.
“Because it was my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. You didn’t know what happened to his fiancée, what he had planned.”
JJ stirred his bowl, his gaze far away. “Max was the first straight man I’d ever had as a real friend. We were the “little guys” in sniper training. All the “real men” thought we’d wash out. Only one third of the class finished, and we did. I lost touch with him when he got engaged.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Drake laid his hand on JJ’s arm.
“I should have asked more questions. I was just so glad to see him after all that time. . .”
“Stop it.” Drake pulled back, his hand clenching into a fist. “I was there, remember? I couldn’t do a damn thing except bleed, but I heard you arguing with him. Who knows what might have happened if Ryo and Dee hadn’t burst in?” He looked away, “and then you held his hand until he died.”
“He was my friend.”
“Well, I’m your friend too, and you really came through when I needed you.” Drake paused in astonishment at the words that popped out of his mouth. They were a deeper truth than he had realized.
_ I needed him. _
JJ’s face lit up with astonishment and delight. “Thank you, Drake.”
“I’m thinking of taking up jogging, like you said,” Drake said quickly to cover his confusion. “I really want to get back on the street.”
“Why?” JJ asked.
Drake blinked. “Are you kidding?” he sputtered. “I’m a file clerk! I mean, how boring would I be if all I had to talk about was lost and misfiled paperwork?”
“I wouldn’t find it boring at all,” JJ leaned on the table. “In fact it would be refreshing.”
“Huh?”
“Drake, three days ago I was part of the breaking up of a crack factory. There were three kids in the middle of it and their mother died in the operation.” JJ’s face went grim. “Lost and misfiled paperwork is _exactly_ the kind of thing I really need to hear about.”
He looked away for a moment, then shrugged, “that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to start jogging. I could use a jogging partner.”
“Oh, okay, sure,” Drake nodded. He finished his soup and the two argued briefly over the bill before splitting it. JJ went up to the cashier to banter some more with Sophie while Drake waited.
_ He needs to hear about filing and shit that’s not SWAT related, I can understand that. _ Drake suddenly froze. _Wait; is he saying that he needs . . . me? _
“Drake? Come on, we’ve got to get back on the clock or the Chief will come looking for us.”
_ He needs me? _ He’d been liked, he’d been loved but none of his girlfriends ever really suggested they needed him.
For a brief minute, it felt like he’d been hit between the eyes.
_Why me? _
-Fin-
Fandom: FAKE
Pairing/Character: JJ/Drake
Author: Murasaki-Dono
Recipient: Priscian
Warnings: m/m, language, AU version of “Like, Like Love” and spoilers for act 15, references to ‘Vive!’ and ‘Bad Day.’
Summary: Something happens when JJ and Drake go to lunch
Soundtrack: “For Once In My Life” - Tony Bennet and Stevie Wonder
Symbols: _italics_
Notes: While I have all respect for Sanami Matoh and her series; she even admits she doesn’t know much about New York City and New York City police requirements. Sharpshooters are members of the NYC SWAT
******
The red haired detective huffed as he climbed the last stairs to the roof of the precinct. He wearily shoved open the emergency door. Drake Parker felt angry; partially at former SWAT sniper Max Fork for the shot that collapsed and damaged his left lung, partially at the NYPD physical requirements for leaving him at a desk job, partially at Linda who had left him because he “couldn’t keep up with her.” He also reserved a portion of anger for himself because he was looking at thirty and looking at being alone again. He leaned against the parapet and sighed deeply.
“Hey, Drake!” called his partner, JJ Adams, flinging the door open with a bang. The SWAT sharpshooter was deceptively slender and wiry; but he was capable of running for five miles in fourty pounds of bulletproof armor and, through a riflescope, hit a target the size of a quarter. “Janet said you came up here. She said you were sulking, let me guess, you got dumped by your latest.”
“What business is it of yours? Or Janet’s for that matter? Somebody place a bet again?” Drake scowled.
“Not this time.”
“_This_ time?” Drake sputtered.
“Well, it’s not like it hasn’t happened before.” JJ leaned on the rooftop ledge.
“Oh, gee, thanks so much for the sympathy,” he snarled sarcastically.
“It’s not like I don’t understand what you’re feeling,” JJ rested his chin on his folded arms.
“Oh, yeah, your wonderful Dee Laytner. . .”
“I haven’t been after him since he and McLean hooked up.”
Drake goggled. “Ryo? Ryo and Dee?”
“Oh, come on,” JJ turned and stared at him. “You can’t be _that_ dense.”
Drake felt his face go warm. “I doubt it’s going to last, Dee gets bored too easy.” He felt a stab of self-pity and shook his head. “Aw, fuck this,” he dropped his elbows on the edge of the roof. “I don’t need a woman in my life. I can get by with just my career.” There had to be a way to advance. He wanted to be where he was needed.
“No,” JJ continued. “This was just a . . . thing, a summer fling that could never be, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when it had to end,” he sighed. He turned back and rested his chin on his crossed arms again.
“Oh, geez,” Drake fumbled for words. “Aw, come on, sad doesn’t suit you. There’ll be someone else. You’ll see. I should know; been there, done that and bought the t-shirt.” He reached out and touched JJ’s shoulder. “I mean, the Stones say ‘you can’t always get what you want, but if you try you get what you need.’ Why don’t you try going after what you need?”
JJ straightened, his face lighting up with delight. To Drake’s astonishment, he turned, grabbed Drake’s arms and kissed him. It was a nice kiss; a quick, sweet touch that sent a wave of pure shock through Drake. JJ was always one for hugging but _kissing_.
_Why me? _ Drake thought. _Why is he kissing me? _
“You’re right, that sounds like a good idea, I trust your judgment.” JJ smiled, “and on that note, let’s go get something to eat. I know just the place, come on.”
*******
Drake blinked as JJ Adams steered him into the small restaurant. It was within walking distance of St. Vincent’s Hospital. It was clearly old; the chrome and peeling vinyl on the stools of the counter proclaimed that. It was scrupulously clean and a white haired woman came out to greet them.
“JJ! Such a long time! Who is your friend?”
“Sophie!” JJ kissed her cheek. “This is Sophie Weinberger, she makes the best chicken soup in New York. Sophie, this is Drake Parker.”
“Ah!” said Sophie. “The young man you were always visiting in the hospital, yes? Welcome, welcome! You sit in one of the booths.” She shooed them into the back.
“Hey, JJ!” called another woman from the kitchen.
“Hey, Lenore!” JJ waved at her.
“You’d get the chicken soup here?” Drake asked.
“Every day without fail,” said Sophie, “such a lucky young man you are to have some one who cares for you like that.” She set two bowls before them. Drake smelled the rich, garlicky aroma of the soup he had fallen in love with as he recovered from his gunshot wound.
“Do you want something else, Drake?” asked JJ just a little anxiously.
“No, no, this is great,” Drake started eating. “I’d forgot how good this is.”
“Good,” JJ smiled again. It was a quieter smile, more like the way he smiled when he talked about his sister and his nieces.
Drake crumbled some crackers into the broth. “I was so miserable. Sheila said hospitals creeped her out and I told her to go to hell. You showed up every day with chicken soup and dumb gossip.” He felt confused.
“Because it was my fault.”
“No, it wasn’t. You didn’t know what happened to his fiancée, what he had planned.”
JJ stirred his bowl, his gaze far away. “Max was the first straight man I’d ever had as a real friend. We were the “little guys” in sniper training. All the “real men” thought we’d wash out. Only one third of the class finished, and we did. I lost touch with him when he got engaged.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Drake laid his hand on JJ’s arm.
“I should have asked more questions. I was just so glad to see him after all that time. . .”
“Stop it.” Drake pulled back, his hand clenching into a fist. “I was there, remember? I couldn’t do a damn thing except bleed, but I heard you arguing with him. Who knows what might have happened if Ryo and Dee hadn’t burst in?” He looked away, “and then you held his hand until he died.”
“He was my friend.”
“Well, I’m your friend too, and you really came through when I needed you.” Drake paused in astonishment at the words that popped out of his mouth. They were a deeper truth than he had realized.
_ I needed him. _
JJ’s face lit up with astonishment and delight. “Thank you, Drake.”
“I’m thinking of taking up jogging, like you said,” Drake said quickly to cover his confusion. “I really want to get back on the street.”
“Why?” JJ asked.
Drake blinked. “Are you kidding?” he sputtered. “I’m a file clerk! I mean, how boring would I be if all I had to talk about was lost and misfiled paperwork?”
“I wouldn’t find it boring at all,” JJ leaned on the table. “In fact it would be refreshing.”
“Huh?”
“Drake, three days ago I was part of the breaking up of a crack factory. There were three kids in the middle of it and their mother died in the operation.” JJ’s face went grim. “Lost and misfiled paperwork is _exactly_ the kind of thing I really need to hear about.”
He looked away for a moment, then shrugged, “that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to start jogging. I could use a jogging partner.”
“Oh, okay, sure,” Drake nodded. He finished his soup and the two argued briefly over the bill before splitting it. JJ went up to the cashier to banter some more with Sophie while Drake waited.
_ He needs to hear about filing and shit that’s not SWAT related, I can understand that. _ Drake suddenly froze. _Wait; is he saying that he needs . . . me? _
“Drake? Come on, we’ve got to get back on the clock or the Chief will come looking for us.”
_ He needs me? _ He’d been liked, he’d been loved but none of his girlfriends ever really suggested they needed him.
For a brief minute, it felt like he’d been hit between the eyes.
_Why me? _
-Fin-