Walk on By VII
WALK ON BY - VII
Author: Lottie Lenya
Type: RPS
Pairing: VM/OB
Rating: PG (R/NC-17 in later chapters)
Category: AU
Disclaimer: This is fiction, not based in reality - to the best of my knowledge Viggo Mortensen has never lived rough and Orlando Bloom was never part of the Constabulary.
Beta: Ana who is simply the best!
A/N - This chapter is for Bee - you know why.
D I Bicknall was extremely pleased with the situation. It appeared that against all the odds they had not only found their dealer but also the reason why staff at “Bount-e-full” always seemed to be singing from the same song sheet as Vice.
P C Roxwell couldn’t believe his bad luck when D I Bicknall had sauntered into the shop. One glance at his rather smug expression told him that the game was up. He wondered who had alerted the D I and when he saw D S Bloom he put two and two together and made five.
Just before he was led off the premises, having been duly cautioned, a young girl threw herself into P C Roxwell’s arms. Holding her tight he murmured in her ear and she wiped a tear away.
‘I’ll wait for you Mikey, whatever happens, I’ll be here…’
‘Love you, Lou.’ He called back.
‘Oh for Gawd’s sake, spare me the fucking hearts and flowers.’ D I Bicknall rolled his eyes.
When they got back to the station, P C Roxwell demanded that his solicitor be present before he answered any questions. He kept smirking at Orlando who was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
When the solicitor arrived, Orlando recognised her as one of Greg’s drinking acquaintances, although the two had never been introduced. He thanked his lucky stars that Greg had kept all but a handful of his friends well away from him. He had always argued that it could lead to a conflict of interests and Orlando had no desire to be taken off this case.
It was not the most constructive of interviews. P C Roxwell admitted that he was carrying a large quantity of cocaine with intent to deal but he staunchly refused to say where it came from or how Bount-e-full fitted into the picture. The two detectives knew that in all probability Mike Roxwell would be bailed when he appeared before magistrates. There were no previous misdemeanours to be taken into account and although he would certainly lose his job, with the help of a good barrister he was unlikely to lose his liberty.
Leaving their soon-to-be-erstwhile colleague to the tender mercies of the custody sergeant. Orlando and D I Bicknall retired to the pub next door to discuss the situation.
‘Face it ‘guv, we’re fucked.’ Orlando took a pull of his pint and lit a cigarette. ‘There’s something more to this that I can’t quite put my finger on. That cunt’s laughing at us and I wanna know why.’
‘Give us a fag and don’t give me that face; you look just like the wife.’ He took a cigarette and Orlando lit it for him. ‘You’re right, we’re missing something. There’s a bigger issue at stake here than dealing a few drugs. Fuck it, I can’t see it, it’s sodding well right in front of us.’ The ringing of his phone interrupted his train of thought. ‘That’ll be Vee; I’ll take it outside, get another round in.’
Orlando got the next round and sat down again. He tried to remember where he’d first come across Roxwell. He sat back and let his mind wander over the past few months. When Bicknall came back a few minutes later he was sure he’d got it.
‘One fucking day, Bloomie, one fucking day I am gonna get to my kids’ school and actually talk to their fucking teachers. Christ you’d think it was a matter of life and death the way she goes on about it and it’s not as if…..’
He ground to a halt when he realised his colleague wasn’t even pretending to listen to him.
**
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, a man crawled inch by painful inch towards what he fervently prayed would be sanctuary. He could see the bright light beckoning to him and he knew that on the other side of it lay safety and peace.
**
Orlando was nearly bubbling over in his excitement.
‘I met Roxwell outside one of those poncey shops near Berwick Street. I was on my way to the kaff and he was calming down this posh bird who was wetting her knickers ‘cos some old wino was sleeping in the doorway. So he tells the wino to get on his way and I felt really sorry for him so I got him some breakfast.’
‘So you bought Roxwell breakfast. What the fuck was the point of that?’
‘No sir.’ In his excitement Orlando was nearly tripping over his words. ‘The wino…’
He stopped remembering Viggo’s surprise when he’d offered to get him something to eat and felt a twinge of guilt when he recalled Viggo’s face the last time they’d met; it was as if all the hope had been ripped out of him. He knew he had overreacted just a bit, that he had been needlessly cruel. But George had been so pissed off at him, had read him the riot act; not that he needed it. He just couldn’t afford to get involved with someone who had such a dirty big skeleton in his cupboard. And that was the rub, the thing that had kept him awake over the past few nights. He fancied Viggo. There, he’d finally admitted it to himself. I’m attracted to some dirty smelly down and out who lives on the fucking streets. Now what the fuck was he going to do about it?
‘Detective Sergeant Bloom, are you with us?’ Bicknall was fast losing patience; he’d had his ear chewed off by his irate wife, his kids were once again wondering why their dad never showed up at parents’ evenings and he’d forgotten to buy his mother-in-law a birthday present. Again. Another black mark that would be chalked up, brought out and dusted down every time he and Vee had a row. Now his D S seemed to have gone into a trance. It just wasn’t his night!
Orlando came to with a jolt. Suddenly it all seemed crystal clear.
‘Vic Moreton must’ve seen something, something that we could use against Roxwell. We need to find this Moreton as soon as possible sir. I’m sure he’s the key to all of this.’
‘Who the fuck is Vic Moreton? Is it too much to ask that you keep me informed? What have I said to you and the team about keeping everyone up to speed? Christ. Orlando, just start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.
This time keeping a lid on his emotions he went through the whole sorry tale again.
D I Bicknall took another cigarette and lit it thoughtfully.
‘So the first time you met Roxwell with the Wiggy one, you took him to breakfast? Was he agitated? Showing signs of stress?’
Orlando considered this for a moment, taking a slug of his beer and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
‘No, when I think of it, he didn’t. But when I took his clothes into the shower room he was obviously terrified, sweaty and I mean seriously spooked sir, this was no ordinary threat. Whatever it was was enough to make Viggo change his pitch. Suddenly he ups sticks and takes himself to the Strand, which I thought was a bit odd.’ He paused, trying to remember the events in their right sequence. ‘Wish I’d asked him, I mean, he didn’t even want to be seen with me. Fuck, sir, we need to get him into protective custody as soon as. He’s out there somewhere, with no one to turn to. Fuck…..’ His mobile went off.
‘Get rid of them, son, we’re finally getting somewhere.’
Orlando nodded and took the call. Bicknall watched as the colour slowly drained out of the D S’ face.
‘We may be too late sir.’ He said as he disconnected the phone. ‘That was George, my ex-guv’nor; Viggo turned up at his brother Frank’s pub. He’s been badly beaten, very badly beaten. I need to get over to St Thomas’ at once.’ He stared sightlessly into the distance. ‘This is all my fault, sir, I’ve got to go.’
‘Alright Orlando. Calm down, no histrionics, lad. We’ll head back to the nick and get a car.’
Ten minutes later, the two were heading over Waterloo Bridge, siren blaring.
Please god, don’t let him die; let me make it up to him. Let it be alright.
TBC
Author: Lottie Lenya
Type: RPS
Pairing: VM/OB
Rating: PG (R/NC-17 in later chapters)
Category: AU
Disclaimer: This is fiction, not based in reality - to the best of my knowledge Viggo Mortensen has never lived rough and Orlando Bloom was never part of the Constabulary.
Beta: Ana who is simply the best!
A/N - This chapter is for Bee - you know why.
D I Bicknall was extremely pleased with the situation. It appeared that against all the odds they had not only found their dealer but also the reason why staff at “Bount-e-full” always seemed to be singing from the same song sheet as Vice.
P C Roxwell couldn’t believe his bad luck when D I Bicknall had sauntered into the shop. One glance at his rather smug expression told him that the game was up. He wondered who had alerted the D I and when he saw D S Bloom he put two and two together and made five.
Just before he was led off the premises, having been duly cautioned, a young girl threw herself into P C Roxwell’s arms. Holding her tight he murmured in her ear and she wiped a tear away.
‘I’ll wait for you Mikey, whatever happens, I’ll be here…’
‘Love you, Lou.’ He called back.
‘Oh for Gawd’s sake, spare me the fucking hearts and flowers.’ D I Bicknall rolled his eyes.
When they got back to the station, P C Roxwell demanded that his solicitor be present before he answered any questions. He kept smirking at Orlando who was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
When the solicitor arrived, Orlando recognised her as one of Greg’s drinking acquaintances, although the two had never been introduced. He thanked his lucky stars that Greg had kept all but a handful of his friends well away from him. He had always argued that it could lead to a conflict of interests and Orlando had no desire to be taken off this case.
It was not the most constructive of interviews. P C Roxwell admitted that he was carrying a large quantity of cocaine with intent to deal but he staunchly refused to say where it came from or how Bount-e-full fitted into the picture. The two detectives knew that in all probability Mike Roxwell would be bailed when he appeared before magistrates. There were no previous misdemeanours to be taken into account and although he would certainly lose his job, with the help of a good barrister he was unlikely to lose his liberty.
Leaving their soon-to-be-erstwhile colleague to the tender mercies of the custody sergeant. Orlando and D I Bicknall retired to the pub next door to discuss the situation.
‘Face it ‘guv, we’re fucked.’ Orlando took a pull of his pint and lit a cigarette. ‘There’s something more to this that I can’t quite put my finger on. That cunt’s laughing at us and I wanna know why.’
‘Give us a fag and don’t give me that face; you look just like the wife.’ He took a cigarette and Orlando lit it for him. ‘You’re right, we’re missing something. There’s a bigger issue at stake here than dealing a few drugs. Fuck it, I can’t see it, it’s sodding well right in front of us.’ The ringing of his phone interrupted his train of thought. ‘That’ll be Vee; I’ll take it outside, get another round in.’
Orlando got the next round and sat down again. He tried to remember where he’d first come across Roxwell. He sat back and let his mind wander over the past few months. When Bicknall came back a few minutes later he was sure he’d got it.
‘One fucking day, Bloomie, one fucking day I am gonna get to my kids’ school and actually talk to their fucking teachers. Christ you’d think it was a matter of life and death the way she goes on about it and it’s not as if…..’
He ground to a halt when he realised his colleague wasn’t even pretending to listen to him.
**
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, a man crawled inch by painful inch towards what he fervently prayed would be sanctuary. He could see the bright light beckoning to him and he knew that on the other side of it lay safety and peace.
**
Orlando was nearly bubbling over in his excitement.
‘I met Roxwell outside one of those poncey shops near Berwick Street. I was on my way to the kaff and he was calming down this posh bird who was wetting her knickers ‘cos some old wino was sleeping in the doorway. So he tells the wino to get on his way and I felt really sorry for him so I got him some breakfast.’
‘So you bought Roxwell breakfast. What the fuck was the point of that?’
‘No sir.’ In his excitement Orlando was nearly tripping over his words. ‘The wino…’
He stopped remembering Viggo’s surprise when he’d offered to get him something to eat and felt a twinge of guilt when he recalled Viggo’s face the last time they’d met; it was as if all the hope had been ripped out of him. He knew he had overreacted just a bit, that he had been needlessly cruel. But George had been so pissed off at him, had read him the riot act; not that he needed it. He just couldn’t afford to get involved with someone who had such a dirty big skeleton in his cupboard. And that was the rub, the thing that had kept him awake over the past few nights. He fancied Viggo. There, he’d finally admitted it to himself. I’m attracted to some dirty smelly down and out who lives on the fucking streets. Now what the fuck was he going to do about it?
‘Detective Sergeant Bloom, are you with us?’ Bicknall was fast losing patience; he’d had his ear chewed off by his irate wife, his kids were once again wondering why their dad never showed up at parents’ evenings and he’d forgotten to buy his mother-in-law a birthday present. Again. Another black mark that would be chalked up, brought out and dusted down every time he and Vee had a row. Now his D S seemed to have gone into a trance. It just wasn’t his night!
Orlando came to with a jolt. Suddenly it all seemed crystal clear.
‘Vic Moreton must’ve seen something, something that we could use against Roxwell. We need to find this Moreton as soon as possible sir. I’m sure he’s the key to all of this.’
‘Who the fuck is Vic Moreton? Is it too much to ask that you keep me informed? What have I said to you and the team about keeping everyone up to speed? Christ. Orlando, just start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.
This time keeping a lid on his emotions he went through the whole sorry tale again.
D I Bicknall took another cigarette and lit it thoughtfully.
‘So the first time you met Roxwell with the Wiggy one, you took him to breakfast? Was he agitated? Showing signs of stress?’
Orlando considered this for a moment, taking a slug of his beer and wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
‘No, when I think of it, he didn’t. But when I took his clothes into the shower room he was obviously terrified, sweaty and I mean seriously spooked sir, this was no ordinary threat. Whatever it was was enough to make Viggo change his pitch. Suddenly he ups sticks and takes himself to the Strand, which I thought was a bit odd.’ He paused, trying to remember the events in their right sequence. ‘Wish I’d asked him, I mean, he didn’t even want to be seen with me. Fuck, sir, we need to get him into protective custody as soon as. He’s out there somewhere, with no one to turn to. Fuck…..’ His mobile went off.
‘Get rid of them, son, we’re finally getting somewhere.’
Orlando nodded and took the call. Bicknall watched as the colour slowly drained out of the D S’ face.
‘We may be too late sir.’ He said as he disconnected the phone. ‘That was George, my ex-guv’nor; Viggo turned up at his brother Frank’s pub. He’s been badly beaten, very badly beaten. I need to get over to St Thomas’ at once.’ He stared sightlessly into the distance. ‘This is all my fault, sir, I’ve got to go.’
‘Alright Orlando. Calm down, no histrionics, lad. We’ll head back to the nick and get a car.’
Ten minutes later, the two were heading over Waterloo Bridge, siren blaring.
Please god, don’t let him die; let me make it up to him. Let it be alright.
TBC