The Big Scare [FanFic]
Title: The Big Scare
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Foyet/JJ
Rating: FRT
Summary: Foyet proves that fear doesn't always come in a way one would expect in Quaint Cove.
Notes: This is the fourth piece in the Noir AU which I'm calling "Living For the Night" thanks to let_it_linger21. Again, first person (this time from Foyet's POV), dark, gritty, and little naughtiness but still "FRT" appropriate I feel. This one picks up right where the last one left off so it might help to read it first - use "living for the night" tag to read them all. I'm still getting back in the noir voice so, um,yeah, be kind please, haha!
Fear is a funny thing. It comes in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it’s just a shadow, sometimes it’s less subtle, like a gun to your head, and other times it’s the guy with a neighborly smile as he waves at the car carrying his old partner, Aaron Hotchner, peels away. My detective’s badge says George Foyet, those crawling the back allies and working the streets know me better as The Reaper, and, in Quaint Cove, I am fear. I’m not like the others; I can’t be bought off or intimidated. I always get what I want; more than respect, love, or any other sense of duty people fold to me. A man will stab his partner in the back, but he’ll never betray the one he thinks will eviscerate him and his whole family in the middle of the night. How else are you going to get the regular scum of the town to respect you?
“George?” Speaking of which.
I hate being called by my first name on the job, and he knows it. I roll my eyes and turn to glare at the beat cop, “It’s Foyet, Perrota.”
“What if that was the roommate we’ve been looking for?” His slimy smirk speaks of his urge to call me George again.
“It was.” Under normal circumstances I’d get rid of a man like Perrota. He’s a big guy with a big head and bad case of paranoia. He has his uses though, like a willingness, if not a joy, in getting his hands dirty.
“Then why’d we let her go?” He sounds like he doesn’t trust my moves or motives. Then again he probably doesn’t.
I go to grab a cigarette out of my breast pocket with a sigh and light up using my favorite Zippo. It’s got the Eye of Providence engraved on it, when I found it on the body of the first man I killed on the force the irony of the emblem gave me a chuckle…Fate, clearly, hadn’t been on the man’s side when I met him. I took the lighter as my own, from that moment on, to everyone I met, I was fate. I hold the smoke in for a moment, admiring my lighter, before letting it out as I speak, “You have no tact, Perrota, none at all, you know that?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The sudden tension in his voice makes me smile. Causing anger is almost as satisfying as causing fear…especially when it’s impotent in nature.
“Get in the car,” I order without answering. He goes for the driver’s seat, but I don’t stop him. He sees it as taking control; I see it as offering to be my chauffer. I don’t actually answer his question until we’re a block from Todd’s house. “We grab Todd’s roommate now and we’ll have Hotchner and his new little friends up our ass for the rest of the case. I don’t have the time or patience for all that. So, instead, we wait.” There isn’t another option, not like Hotch would ever make a deal…You could offer that guy world peace if he just let a criminal or two go and he’d tell ya to go fuck yourself. It’d be amusing if it weren’t so damned irritating.
“Whatever you say, boss.” He’s not buying the tactic, but what does he know? He’s always been the type to go straight for action, straight to torture and murder. I’m better than that. I’m subtle.
I drag deep off my little cancer stick before rolling down the window and letting the smoke out in a long wisp. Then I put the cigarette out on the dash without ever saying another word.
***
There’s nothing better than walking into a place where you’re king, which is exactly why I always enjoy entering the offices of the homicide department at police headquarters. There’s only one downside in a slight pain in the ass boss that makes his presence known as I saunter towards my desk.
“Foyet,” his voice is overly hard, bordering on aggressive, like he’s been practicing too long on how to call me into his office before doing so.
I turn on my heel and smile pleasantly wide, “Captain Hawks.” Bruno Hawks. He used to be friends with the previous captain, Jason Gideon, but clearly not good enough friends to keep him from virtually taking Gideon’s job out from under him.
“My office. Now.” He’s faking his seriousness, trying to play the big-bad so everyone listening knows he’s still the boss. Truth is he’s only concerned about one thing, the one thing that keeps him the boss. “Cleared all your cases?” he asks once I’m in his office, still grinning like a dope.
“All but two, sir,” I reply. You clear them all and you’re liable to raise flags.
“Good,” he nods some as he goes to sit in behind his desk, leaving me standing with my now near-Cheshire grin. It’s times like these I picture what his reaction might be if I pulled out my revolver and shot him right through the neck. “That include this new one?”
“Jordan Todd? Yeah, it does.” We don’t have a Missing Persons department in this city. Plenty of people go missing, sure, but none are found alive so we cut out the middle-man.
Hawks eyes narrow just the slightest bit, “Any progress?”
I sigh, give my best guilty face, “No, sir.” I don’t mention Hotch. Why bother? He isn’t anything I can’t handle and better to keep the higher ups in the dark.
“Very well,” Hawks can’t think of anything else to say, clearly, “Dismissed.”
“Thank you, sir,” I reply giving one last cheesy grin before leaving his office and heading over to my desk to finish the mountain of paperwork I still have. At least with Hotchner as a partner I had someone to pawn off all the forms to - he’d always rather do them all than have it appear either of us were slackers. Morgan, my new partner? He could give a shit how I look, he probably already turned in everything for the week on his end, the bastard.
…Three hours later and my end’s finally all done. I stuff it in the inter-office out-box and then collect my things to head out. Despite wanting to go hunt down Hotchner and the brunette he’s no doubt hidden away by now I stick to the responsibility in picking up my girl, JJ.
***
I pull up front at newspaper headquarters and give the horn of my Chevy Camaro a honk. As I see her dash out of the front lobby, a smile as bright as her blond hair, I suddenly remember what’s missing and dive for the glove compartment to pull out my glasses. I don’t need them, never did, but they complete that wholesome picture I prefer having off work. It’s almost surprising how many pretty little things just melt at the geek with the heart of gold act. “Hey, baby,” I coo in a way that almost makes me want to throw up as I reach over the car to open the door for her.
“Hi, George,” she replies with a kiss to my cheek as she climbs in, “And how was your day?” I don’t mind JJ overall, she’s not a straight up dumb blond and generally steers clear of being a whiny bitch like most dames. Also, working for the paper, she’s an amazing asset to me - you control someone in the media, you control the media.
“Oh wonderful,” I answer with a grin as I pull away from the curb and head back towards our place, “ran into a few old friends and might’ve made some new ones. And you?”
“The usual,” she replies as she locks her seatbelt into place, “rape, murder, mayhem.” And none of it seems to really bother her, I can come home covered in blood and she’ll barely raise a brow. “There’s a rumor the latest girlfriend of mob boss, David Rossi, has gone missing…any truth to that?” JJ asks with a slightly devious smile. Anyone thinking I’m just a some cold bastard using this pretty peach for sport-fucking and to cover my ass better get wise…she’s using me too. It’s the way of the world and JJ knows the score. The only difference between us is we both know how she’s using me, but she doesn’t have a clue how I’m using her.
“Oh, sweetie,” I smile lovingly at her, “You know I can’t talk about any open cases.”
“But it’s true then,” JJ catches me, “I mean, you wouldn’t bring up open cases unless it was one.”
“Clever girl,” I reach over and gently let the back of my hand run along that ivory cheek of hers a moment before returning my hand to the wheel, “we’re looking to question her roommate, if we can find her.”
“She’s missing too?” JJ sounds curious bordering on confused, but I know better. She’s baiting me with that clueless tone, fishing for a story.
I decide to give her one. “Yes, she is, and we’re not sure if she’s just scared or in real trouble. I’m thinking of posting a small reward for help in finding her.” Good luck hiding Todd’s roommate now, Hotchner. Every other citizen in Quaint Cove will be aching to turn her over to me once they hear there’s a reward. “But, look, I shouldn’t be talking about this, I’ll get in trouble, you know that. Anyway, I’m with you now and I’d rather focus on that.” I take my hand off the wheel to take hers and bring it to my lips to kiss. It’s a good idea to let a woman think you’re more in love with her than she is with you; the guilt she’ll feel let’s you get away with murder.
***
I have a nice little apartment in one of the better parts of town that I call home. It was sparse before I met JJ, but now it’s got the stink of a woman all over it. A welcome mat with flowers stitched on it, pillows on the couch for no reason, pictures on the wall of kids at the beach, and smelly soap in the bathroom. I hate all of it. …There was a cat for awhile too, but I got rid of that problem within the first week JJ brought it home.
“So, what do you think?” my girl asks excitedly as she relaxes against the wall waiting for me to unlock and open the door.
“About?” I’d stopped listening to her by the time we got to the parking garage, maybe I should’ve continued. God, why do women have to yap endlessly? You can’t even follow them!
“About Henry.”
“Henry?” What the fuck is this bitch talking about?
JJ laughs as she rolls her eyes some, “For the baby, silly. If it’s a boy, I like the name Henry.” She laughs and shakes her head at me as she passes into the apartment and right to the kitchen to start dinner. That part of living with a woman I don’t hate.
“Right, for the baby,” I laugh off the misstep as I follow her inside, lock the door behind us, “For the baby it’s a great name.” Actually, it’s kind of lame but, hey, it’s her kid right? I shrug off my jacket and hang it up on the coat rack by the door - another one of JJ’s touches.
“I’m not sure about if it’s a girl yet though. Any thoughts?”
I keep the rest of my suit on, badge and gun included, as I head into the kitchen. “Not at the moment, no, sorry,” I answer while coming up behind her, “But then my mind’s not really on baby names right now,” I confess with a soft chuckle as I put my arms on either side of the countertop where she’s standing.
I hear JJ chuckle softly as well before she turns, virtually pinned between the counter and myself, “Is it on dinner?”
“No,” I say slowly, smirking as I do. It’s on that other part of living with a woman I don’t hate. I move in closer, give her a kiss on her cheek, then another on her jawline. I slip my hands to the sides of her expanding baby-bump and kiss her lips.
She returns the kiss and then smiles some, “So you’re not in the least bit hungry?”
“Not for food,” I insist, pressing myself into that soft, supple, body of hers, all of which gives save for the stomach that holds a future of fear for upcoming generations. “What do you say, beautiful?” my hands slip down, move to start gathering up the fabric of her black A-line skirt, “Care to put dinner on hold for a few hours?”
“A few hours?”
“Well, I don’t mean to brag…” I trail off into a laugh JJ joins me in.
“I wonder if those at your work know how wicked you can be,” she comments as I finally get a hand on the strap the runs from her nylons to her garter belt and give it a snap. She jumps, startled by the sudden bite of pain it’s no doubt caused.
I remove my glasses, set them on the counter, and, this time, make the kiss count. Start off a little forceful, just enough to get her to think twice about resisting, and then it’s so soft and slow she doesn’t even notice my fingers are on the garter strap of the other leg…until I snap that one against her skin hard enough she almost buckles. “They don’t have a clue.”
…And sometimes fear is the guy sharing the bed with a pretty, pregnant, blond.
"You can scream now if you want." ~ Marv, Sin City
Next Section:
The Third Man
Previous Sections:
Nightgale's Welcome Me
On Dangerous Ground
Safe Passage
Author: Tooks
Pairing: Foyet/JJ
Rating: FRT
Summary: Foyet proves that fear doesn't always come in a way one would expect in Quaint Cove.
Notes: This is the fourth piece in the Noir AU which I'm calling "Living For the Night" thanks to let_it_linger21. Again, first person (this time from Foyet's POV), dark, gritty, and little naughtiness but still "FRT" appropriate I feel. This one picks up right where the last one left off so it might help to read it first - use "living for the night" tag to read them all. I'm still getting back in the noir voice so, um,yeah, be kind please, haha!
Fear is a funny thing. It comes in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes it’s just a shadow, sometimes it’s less subtle, like a gun to your head, and other times it’s the guy with a neighborly smile as he waves at the car carrying his old partner, Aaron Hotchner, peels away. My detective’s badge says George Foyet, those crawling the back allies and working the streets know me better as The Reaper, and, in Quaint Cove, I am fear. I’m not like the others; I can’t be bought off or intimidated. I always get what I want; more than respect, love, or any other sense of duty people fold to me. A man will stab his partner in the back, but he’ll never betray the one he thinks will eviscerate him and his whole family in the middle of the night. How else are you going to get the regular scum of the town to respect you?
“George?” Speaking of which.
I hate being called by my first name on the job, and he knows it. I roll my eyes and turn to glare at the beat cop, “It’s Foyet, Perrota.”
“What if that was the roommate we’ve been looking for?” His slimy smirk speaks of his urge to call me George again.
“It was.” Under normal circumstances I’d get rid of a man like Perrota. He’s a big guy with a big head and bad case of paranoia. He has his uses though, like a willingness, if not a joy, in getting his hands dirty.
“Then why’d we let her go?” He sounds like he doesn’t trust my moves or motives. Then again he probably doesn’t.
I go to grab a cigarette out of my breast pocket with a sigh and light up using my favorite Zippo. It’s got the Eye of Providence engraved on it, when I found it on the body of the first man I killed on the force the irony of the emblem gave me a chuckle…Fate, clearly, hadn’t been on the man’s side when I met him. I took the lighter as my own, from that moment on, to everyone I met, I was fate. I hold the smoke in for a moment, admiring my lighter, before letting it out as I speak, “You have no tact, Perrota, none at all, you know that?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The sudden tension in his voice makes me smile. Causing anger is almost as satisfying as causing fear…especially when it’s impotent in nature.
“Get in the car,” I order without answering. He goes for the driver’s seat, but I don’t stop him. He sees it as taking control; I see it as offering to be my chauffer. I don’t actually answer his question until we’re a block from Todd’s house. “We grab Todd’s roommate now and we’ll have Hotchner and his new little friends up our ass for the rest of the case. I don’t have the time or patience for all that. So, instead, we wait.” There isn’t another option, not like Hotch would ever make a deal…You could offer that guy world peace if he just let a criminal or two go and he’d tell ya to go fuck yourself. It’d be amusing if it weren’t so damned irritating.
“Whatever you say, boss.” He’s not buying the tactic, but what does he know? He’s always been the type to go straight for action, straight to torture and murder. I’m better than that. I’m subtle.
I drag deep off my little cancer stick before rolling down the window and letting the smoke out in a long wisp. Then I put the cigarette out on the dash without ever saying another word.
***
There’s nothing better than walking into a place where you’re king, which is exactly why I always enjoy entering the offices of the homicide department at police headquarters. There’s only one downside in a slight pain in the ass boss that makes his presence known as I saunter towards my desk.
“Foyet,” his voice is overly hard, bordering on aggressive, like he’s been practicing too long on how to call me into his office before doing so.
I turn on my heel and smile pleasantly wide, “Captain Hawks.” Bruno Hawks. He used to be friends with the previous captain, Jason Gideon, but clearly not good enough friends to keep him from virtually taking Gideon’s job out from under him.
“My office. Now.” He’s faking his seriousness, trying to play the big-bad so everyone listening knows he’s still the boss. Truth is he’s only concerned about one thing, the one thing that keeps him the boss. “Cleared all your cases?” he asks once I’m in his office, still grinning like a dope.
“All but two, sir,” I reply. You clear them all and you’re liable to raise flags.
“Good,” he nods some as he goes to sit in behind his desk, leaving me standing with my now near-Cheshire grin. It’s times like these I picture what his reaction might be if I pulled out my revolver and shot him right through the neck. “That include this new one?”
“Jordan Todd? Yeah, it does.” We don’t have a Missing Persons department in this city. Plenty of people go missing, sure, but none are found alive so we cut out the middle-man.
Hawks eyes narrow just the slightest bit, “Any progress?”
I sigh, give my best guilty face, “No, sir.” I don’t mention Hotch. Why bother? He isn’t anything I can’t handle and better to keep the higher ups in the dark.
“Very well,” Hawks can’t think of anything else to say, clearly, “Dismissed.”
“Thank you, sir,” I reply giving one last cheesy grin before leaving his office and heading over to my desk to finish the mountain of paperwork I still have. At least with Hotchner as a partner I had someone to pawn off all the forms to - he’d always rather do them all than have it appear either of us were slackers. Morgan, my new partner? He could give a shit how I look, he probably already turned in everything for the week on his end, the bastard.
…Three hours later and my end’s finally all done. I stuff it in the inter-office out-box and then collect my things to head out. Despite wanting to go hunt down Hotchner and the brunette he’s no doubt hidden away by now I stick to the responsibility in picking up my girl, JJ.
***
I pull up front at newspaper headquarters and give the horn of my Chevy Camaro a honk. As I see her dash out of the front lobby, a smile as bright as her blond hair, I suddenly remember what’s missing and dive for the glove compartment to pull out my glasses. I don’t need them, never did, but they complete that wholesome picture I prefer having off work. It’s almost surprising how many pretty little things just melt at the geek with the heart of gold act. “Hey, baby,” I coo in a way that almost makes me want to throw up as I reach over the car to open the door for her.
“Hi, George,” she replies with a kiss to my cheek as she climbs in, “And how was your day?” I don’t mind JJ overall, she’s not a straight up dumb blond and generally steers clear of being a whiny bitch like most dames. Also, working for the paper, she’s an amazing asset to me - you control someone in the media, you control the media.
“Oh wonderful,” I answer with a grin as I pull away from the curb and head back towards our place, “ran into a few old friends and might’ve made some new ones. And you?”
“The usual,” she replies as she locks her seatbelt into place, “rape, murder, mayhem.” And none of it seems to really bother her, I can come home covered in blood and she’ll barely raise a brow. “There’s a rumor the latest girlfriend of mob boss, David Rossi, has gone missing…any truth to that?” JJ asks with a slightly devious smile. Anyone thinking I’m just a some cold bastard using this pretty peach for sport-fucking and to cover my ass better get wise…she’s using me too. It’s the way of the world and JJ knows the score. The only difference between us is we both know how she’s using me, but she doesn’t have a clue how I’m using her.
“Oh, sweetie,” I smile lovingly at her, “You know I can’t talk about any open cases.”
“But it’s true then,” JJ catches me, “I mean, you wouldn’t bring up open cases unless it was one.”
“Clever girl,” I reach over and gently let the back of my hand run along that ivory cheek of hers a moment before returning my hand to the wheel, “we’re looking to question her roommate, if we can find her.”
“She’s missing too?” JJ sounds curious bordering on confused, but I know better. She’s baiting me with that clueless tone, fishing for a story.
I decide to give her one. “Yes, she is, and we’re not sure if she’s just scared or in real trouble. I’m thinking of posting a small reward for help in finding her.” Good luck hiding Todd’s roommate now, Hotchner. Every other citizen in Quaint Cove will be aching to turn her over to me once they hear there’s a reward. “But, look, I shouldn’t be talking about this, I’ll get in trouble, you know that. Anyway, I’m with you now and I’d rather focus on that.” I take my hand off the wheel to take hers and bring it to my lips to kiss. It’s a good idea to let a woman think you’re more in love with her than she is with you; the guilt she’ll feel let’s you get away with murder.
***
I have a nice little apartment in one of the better parts of town that I call home. It was sparse before I met JJ, but now it’s got the stink of a woman all over it. A welcome mat with flowers stitched on it, pillows on the couch for no reason, pictures on the wall of kids at the beach, and smelly soap in the bathroom. I hate all of it. …There was a cat for awhile too, but I got rid of that problem within the first week JJ brought it home.
“So, what do you think?” my girl asks excitedly as she relaxes against the wall waiting for me to unlock and open the door.
“About?” I’d stopped listening to her by the time we got to the parking garage, maybe I should’ve continued. God, why do women have to yap endlessly? You can’t even follow them!
“About Henry.”
“Henry?” What the fuck is this bitch talking about?
JJ laughs as she rolls her eyes some, “For the baby, silly. If it’s a boy, I like the name Henry.” She laughs and shakes her head at me as she passes into the apartment and right to the kitchen to start dinner. That part of living with a woman I don’t hate.
“Right, for the baby,” I laugh off the misstep as I follow her inside, lock the door behind us, “For the baby it’s a great name.” Actually, it’s kind of lame but, hey, it’s her kid right? I shrug off my jacket and hang it up on the coat rack by the door - another one of JJ’s touches.
“I’m not sure about if it’s a girl yet though. Any thoughts?”
I keep the rest of my suit on, badge and gun included, as I head into the kitchen. “Not at the moment, no, sorry,” I answer while coming up behind her, “But then my mind’s not really on baby names right now,” I confess with a soft chuckle as I put my arms on either side of the countertop where she’s standing.
I hear JJ chuckle softly as well before she turns, virtually pinned between the counter and myself, “Is it on dinner?”
“No,” I say slowly, smirking as I do. It’s on that other part of living with a woman I don’t hate. I move in closer, give her a kiss on her cheek, then another on her jawline. I slip my hands to the sides of her expanding baby-bump and kiss her lips.
She returns the kiss and then smiles some, “So you’re not in the least bit hungry?”
“Not for food,” I insist, pressing myself into that soft, supple, body of hers, all of which gives save for the stomach that holds a future of fear for upcoming generations. “What do you say, beautiful?” my hands slip down, move to start gathering up the fabric of her black A-line skirt, “Care to put dinner on hold for a few hours?”
“A few hours?”
“Well, I don’t mean to brag…” I trail off into a laugh JJ joins me in.
“I wonder if those at your work know how wicked you can be,” she comments as I finally get a hand on the strap the runs from her nylons to her garter belt and give it a snap. She jumps, startled by the sudden bite of pain it’s no doubt caused.
I remove my glasses, set them on the counter, and, this time, make the kiss count. Start off a little forceful, just enough to get her to think twice about resisting, and then it’s so soft and slow she doesn’t even notice my fingers are on the garter strap of the other leg…until I snap that one against her skin hard enough she almost buckles. “They don’t have a clue.”
…And sometimes fear is the guy sharing the bed with a pretty, pregnant, blond.
"You can scream now if you want." ~ Marv, Sin City
Next Section:
The Third Man
Previous Sections:
Nightgale's Welcome Me
On Dangerous Ground
Safe Passage