Advent Shorts, PSoH, "Rival"
Pairing: Leon X D & ? X Leon X and then also somebody else (!)
This is a series of shorts (longish shorts) written for Advent fic days - I'm ahead of myself, 'cause I've completed this with 10 ficlets altogether. And I know I just posted, but I kinda liked the concept of this one, so pardon me if I am annoying and have a safe, warm and happy holiday season!
Here are the first two: (rated G/PG-13ish)
RIVAL #1
“Richard!”
The door slammed against the plaster, revealing a somnolent detective, head down on his desk.
“Huh?”
Leon opened his eyes to see the stained green blotter and the Styrofoam cup of java that abruptly appeared before him. He raised his head, slowly, so that it wouldn’t fall off, sliding a hand across the spot of drool that slipped down his chin.
“His name is Richard but he said I can call him ‘Rick’! Oh my god, he is so hot!”
His partner’s face was flushed a lovely rose and she was nearly panting with excitement. A nice look, Leon thought, but not to the point at seven in the morning. He needed more coffee to start up his brain before he could appreciate it. He needed some aspirin and maybe four more hours of sleep, too. He made an effort, though, and roused himself to ask:
“What’ya talking about? Who’s this Richard?”
Fumbling, he found the cup and raised it to his lips, sipping it gratefully, closing his bloodshot eyes as the caffeine worked its way down his tanned throat.
Jill jiggled, impatiently, flipping back her hair. She smoothed down her sundress with prettily painted nails, flushing darker with a tinge of anger at Leon’s disheveled impassiveness.
“What’d’ya mean, ‘what do I mean’? Weren’t you supposed to be at that Staff meeting, Leon? He’s the new guy - you know, the one from San Fran, who’s supposed to be helping us out? Come on, you actually met him already - remember, last week?”
“Oh…yeah, yeah, now that you mention it, sure. So…his name’s Richard? Does he have a last name?”
The look of pretty excitement returned in full force. His partner was very definitely charmed, judging by the girly way she was twirling a lock of hair.
“Despard! French, Leon! He’s half-French! He’s blonde and he’s got the most gorgeous blue eyes and he’s soo sweet, Leon! He’s got manners, too - he opened the door for me, Leon! The door!”
Jill was definitely on a roll about this new guy - even a bleary Leon could see that. He sipped his Dunkin’ Donuts and eyed her carefully, not sure which way she’d jump.
“O…kay. Maybe you ought’a sit down or something, Jill. You’re a little weird right now.”
Wrong way. His partner went ramrod straight - Leon could almost see the steam rising from her ears as she fully registered his remark.
“What?! Weird? What’s weird about appreciating a hot guy, Leon? In case you haven’t noticed, there are no hot guys in Homicide!”
“Now that’s not true, Jill - you’ve got me, don’t’cha?”
Ever one to make things worse, Leon couldn’t not stand up and be counted. Plenty of people told him he was good-looking, after all.
“Like you count, Leon! Look at you - I bet you didn’t even take a shower! And those are yesterday’s clothes you’ve got on! You have no sense of style - not like Richard,” she pointed out bitchily, a reverent tone in her voice when she mentioned the new guy’s name.
“I bet you don’t even know what a suit is, unless it’s that grey pinstripe unit you bought for Alejandro’s wedding. How long ago was that? Five years?”
“Hey! It’s older than that! I bought it for graduation, alright? Nothing wrong with that suit, Jill - it’s got plenty of years in it! The guy said it would last forever-”
“That’s not the point, doofus! The point is that it’s older than dirt - you look like some freak from the ‘seventies, Leon!”
“I do not!”
“Well, the point is, Leon, you’ve finally got some competition! I think I’ll take Rick down to Count D’s and introduce him right now!”
“You will not!” Leon roared, sloshing his coffee. He stood right up, hardly wobbling, and shouted at Jill. “He’s my witness, damn it! You’d better leave him alone!”
“So? You own him? I don’t think so, Orcot,” Jill smirked, one hand on the doorknob. “Try and stop me, then, asshole. I’m sure D will enjoy meeting a handsome, fashionable, intelligent detective - for once!”
.
and....
RIVAL #2
“In short, I think we’ve got to go back and look at the hobo angle. That old man was right there on the scene and he was a material witness. We shouldn’t just let him slip though our fingers at this point.”
Richard Despard laid his finely molded but still very manly chin on his clasped and well-kept hands as a murmur of agreement went up in the Staff Room. Only Leon made no response, his brow crinkled in cogitation, clearly occupied elsewhere. He continued staring blindly at a crack in the ceiling, till Jill jabbed him in the ribs, impatient.
“Don’t you agree, Leon? Rick’s right on the money with that idea.”
She raised her hand, eager to claim the visiting detective’s attention in the quiet clamor of agreeable enthusiasm that arose in the packed Staff room. Richard Despard was, without a doubt, everybody’s favorite. Tall and commanding, with hair the color of wild honey and a movie star handsome face, he was liked by both male and female staff. The fact that he oozed charm like a jelly donut oozes raspberry goo didn’t hurt. Even Leon thought the French guy was okay - his ideas were decent, his way of speaking was clear, and the handmade suits didn’t seem to make him pretentious - when he thought about Despard at all, which was practically never. The dude had been at their precinct for a month now and for all his good looks, he never once acted like the asshole Leon had figured he’d be. And Jill - well, Jill flat out adored him, fawning all over ‘Reechaaard’ whenever she got a chance.
Right now, she was waving her arm with great enthusiasm, catching Despard’s attention in the sea of people who surrounded him now that the meeting had wrapped up.
“Yoo-hoo! We’ll track him down, Rick! Count on us!”
Leon’s head whipped around at that, his attention finally claimed.
“Wait! What’re you saying? - I didn’t-Shhhh!“
Leon made frantic shushing motions at his determined partner but they had absolutely no effect. She glared at him and poked him in the ribs a little harder, hissing.
“Shut up, Leon! It’s not like you’ve brought anything useful to the table. Richard’s right - we need to track down that guy! If he was there, then he might have seen something - and we can’t let that opportunity go to waste!”
“Jill! We have our own stuff - we can’t just be chasing down hobos for no good reason-“
“I say we do need to do this, Leon! Hasn’t Rick already helped us out with that last case? Why can’t we give him a hand, huh?”
Jill opened her eyes wide, hopefully, and waited for her partner to give in.
Leon tipped his head back against the wall his chair was stuffed up against, tousling his loosely gathered ponytail and crushing it into the denim collar of his jacket. He thumped his knee, contemplating, stealing little glances at Jill’s expectant face. He rocked on the tilted legs of his metal chair, too, in an annoying little tattoo, but Jill still watched him, her expression hopeful.
“….Fine,” he said, grumpily, “but if it gets in the way of the other shit, then forget it. I don’t have time for extra crap. We’re already overloaded, Jill, and you know it.”
Jill smiled sweetly in victory, revealing white teeth. She leaned forward and patted Leon’s knee consolingly.
“Come on, Leon. It’ll be fine - we’ll manage. And you can ask the Count about it - there were those gashes all over the other bum’s body. Maybe a wild animal made them.”
Leon frowned, thinking back to the graphic images of the old man who’d been discovered under one of L.A.’s many overpasses - bloody beyond belief, his skin sliced to ribbons and his baggy, flea-infested clothes shredded to confetti around him. It had been gruesome, yeah, but it didn’t look like anything an animal might’ve done.
“I don’t know about that - they didn’t feel right. Besides, I don’t wanna bother the Count with this-“
“I’ll help,” a deep, pleasant voice chimed in. Leon looked up - and up - to see Richard Despard smiling genially at the two of them.
The man put a casual hand on the back of Leon’s beat up metal folding chair. He grinned in deprecation, a few strands of his silky dark blonde mane falling over one brilliant blue eye rakishly.
“Since I got you into this, right? I know you’re busy.”
“Oh, Richard! How sweet of you!”
Jill practically hugged him, leaping up out of her chair and putting her hands out. She settled for grabbing the visiting detective’s hands instead, pumping them vigorously, and not missing the chance to twine her pretty fingers around his. A faint flush tinged Despard’s tanned face at the intimacy and he looked down at his handmade shoes, embarrassed. Leon snorted and hid his grin behind one hand, feeling kinda sorry for the guy, and decided on the spur-of-the-moment that a little help might be okay for once.
Since it was all Despard’s fault anyway.
.
.
This is a series of shorts (longish shorts) written for Advent fic days - I'm ahead of myself, 'cause I've completed this with 10 ficlets altogether. And I know I just posted, but I kinda liked the concept of this one, so pardon me if I am annoying and have a safe, warm and happy holiday season!
Here are the first two: (rated G/PG-13ish)
RIVAL #1
“Richard!”
The door slammed against the plaster, revealing a somnolent detective, head down on his desk.
“Huh?”
Leon opened his eyes to see the stained green blotter and the Styrofoam cup of java that abruptly appeared before him. He raised his head, slowly, so that it wouldn’t fall off, sliding a hand across the spot of drool that slipped down his chin.
“His name is Richard but he said I can call him ‘Rick’! Oh my god, he is so hot!”
His partner’s face was flushed a lovely rose and she was nearly panting with excitement. A nice look, Leon thought, but not to the point at seven in the morning. He needed more coffee to start up his brain before he could appreciate it. He needed some aspirin and maybe four more hours of sleep, too. He made an effort, though, and roused himself to ask:
“What’ya talking about? Who’s this Richard?”
Fumbling, he found the cup and raised it to his lips, sipping it gratefully, closing his bloodshot eyes as the caffeine worked its way down his tanned throat.
Jill jiggled, impatiently, flipping back her hair. She smoothed down her sundress with prettily painted nails, flushing darker with a tinge of anger at Leon’s disheveled impassiveness.
“What’d’ya mean, ‘what do I mean’? Weren’t you supposed to be at that Staff meeting, Leon? He’s the new guy - you know, the one from San Fran, who’s supposed to be helping us out? Come on, you actually met him already - remember, last week?”
“Oh…yeah, yeah, now that you mention it, sure. So…his name’s Richard? Does he have a last name?”
The look of pretty excitement returned in full force. His partner was very definitely charmed, judging by the girly way she was twirling a lock of hair.
“Despard! French, Leon! He’s half-French! He’s blonde and he’s got the most gorgeous blue eyes and he’s soo sweet, Leon! He’s got manners, too - he opened the door for me, Leon! The door!”
Jill was definitely on a roll about this new guy - even a bleary Leon could see that. He sipped his Dunkin’ Donuts and eyed her carefully, not sure which way she’d jump.
“O…kay. Maybe you ought’a sit down or something, Jill. You’re a little weird right now.”
Wrong way. His partner went ramrod straight - Leon could almost see the steam rising from her ears as she fully registered his remark.
“What?! Weird? What’s weird about appreciating a hot guy, Leon? In case you haven’t noticed, there are no hot guys in Homicide!”
“Now that’s not true, Jill - you’ve got me, don’t’cha?”
Ever one to make things worse, Leon couldn’t not stand up and be counted. Plenty of people told him he was good-looking, after all.
“Like you count, Leon! Look at you - I bet you didn’t even take a shower! And those are yesterday’s clothes you’ve got on! You have no sense of style - not like Richard,” she pointed out bitchily, a reverent tone in her voice when she mentioned the new guy’s name.
“I bet you don’t even know what a suit is, unless it’s that grey pinstripe unit you bought for Alejandro’s wedding. How long ago was that? Five years?”
“Hey! It’s older than that! I bought it for graduation, alright? Nothing wrong with that suit, Jill - it’s got plenty of years in it! The guy said it would last forever-”
“That’s not the point, doofus! The point is that it’s older than dirt - you look like some freak from the ‘seventies, Leon!”
“I do not!”
“Well, the point is, Leon, you’ve finally got some competition! I think I’ll take Rick down to Count D’s and introduce him right now!”
“You will not!” Leon roared, sloshing his coffee. He stood right up, hardly wobbling, and shouted at Jill. “He’s my witness, damn it! You’d better leave him alone!”
“So? You own him? I don’t think so, Orcot,” Jill smirked, one hand on the doorknob. “Try and stop me, then, asshole. I’m sure D will enjoy meeting a handsome, fashionable, intelligent detective - for once!”
.
and....
RIVAL #2
“In short, I think we’ve got to go back and look at the hobo angle. That old man was right there on the scene and he was a material witness. We shouldn’t just let him slip though our fingers at this point.”
Richard Despard laid his finely molded but still very manly chin on his clasped and well-kept hands as a murmur of agreement went up in the Staff Room. Only Leon made no response, his brow crinkled in cogitation, clearly occupied elsewhere. He continued staring blindly at a crack in the ceiling, till Jill jabbed him in the ribs, impatient.
“Don’t you agree, Leon? Rick’s right on the money with that idea.”
She raised her hand, eager to claim the visiting detective’s attention in the quiet clamor of agreeable enthusiasm that arose in the packed Staff room. Richard Despard was, without a doubt, everybody’s favorite. Tall and commanding, with hair the color of wild honey and a movie star handsome face, he was liked by both male and female staff. The fact that he oozed charm like a jelly donut oozes raspberry goo didn’t hurt. Even Leon thought the French guy was okay - his ideas were decent, his way of speaking was clear, and the handmade suits didn’t seem to make him pretentious - when he thought about Despard at all, which was practically never. The dude had been at their precinct for a month now and for all his good looks, he never once acted like the asshole Leon had figured he’d be. And Jill - well, Jill flat out adored him, fawning all over ‘Reechaaard’ whenever she got a chance.
Right now, she was waving her arm with great enthusiasm, catching Despard’s attention in the sea of people who surrounded him now that the meeting had wrapped up.
“Yoo-hoo! We’ll track him down, Rick! Count on us!”
Leon’s head whipped around at that, his attention finally claimed.
“Wait! What’re you saying? - I didn’t-Shhhh!“
Leon made frantic shushing motions at his determined partner but they had absolutely no effect. She glared at him and poked him in the ribs a little harder, hissing.
“Shut up, Leon! It’s not like you’ve brought anything useful to the table. Richard’s right - we need to track down that guy! If he was there, then he might have seen something - and we can’t let that opportunity go to waste!”
“Jill! We have our own stuff - we can’t just be chasing down hobos for no good reason-“
“I say we do need to do this, Leon! Hasn’t Rick already helped us out with that last case? Why can’t we give him a hand, huh?”
Jill opened her eyes wide, hopefully, and waited for her partner to give in.
Leon tipped his head back against the wall his chair was stuffed up against, tousling his loosely gathered ponytail and crushing it into the denim collar of his jacket. He thumped his knee, contemplating, stealing little glances at Jill’s expectant face. He rocked on the tilted legs of his metal chair, too, in an annoying little tattoo, but Jill still watched him, her expression hopeful.
“….Fine,” he said, grumpily, “but if it gets in the way of the other shit, then forget it. I don’t have time for extra crap. We’re already overloaded, Jill, and you know it.”
Jill smiled sweetly in victory, revealing white teeth. She leaned forward and patted Leon’s knee consolingly.
“Come on, Leon. It’ll be fine - we’ll manage. And you can ask the Count about it - there were those gashes all over the other bum’s body. Maybe a wild animal made them.”
Leon frowned, thinking back to the graphic images of the old man who’d been discovered under one of L.A.’s many overpasses - bloody beyond belief, his skin sliced to ribbons and his baggy, flea-infested clothes shredded to confetti around him. It had been gruesome, yeah, but it didn’t look like anything an animal might’ve done.
“I don’t know about that - they didn’t feel right. Besides, I don’t wanna bother the Count with this-“
“I’ll help,” a deep, pleasant voice chimed in. Leon looked up - and up - to see Richard Despard smiling genially at the two of them.
The man put a casual hand on the back of Leon’s beat up metal folding chair. He grinned in deprecation, a few strands of his silky dark blonde mane falling over one brilliant blue eye rakishly.
“Since I got you into this, right? I know you’re busy.”
“Oh, Richard! How sweet of you!”
Jill practically hugged him, leaping up out of her chair and putting her hands out. She settled for grabbing the visiting detective’s hands instead, pumping them vigorously, and not missing the chance to twine her pretty fingers around his. A faint flush tinged Despard’s tanned face at the intimacy and he looked down at his handmade shoes, embarrassed. Leon snorted and hid his grin behind one hand, feeling kinda sorry for the guy, and decided on the spur-of-the-moment that a little help might be okay for once.
Since it was all Despard’s fault anyway.
.
.