Fearless Leader (Juxtapose City) (12 page)

Exploits?
Jake thought, scowling inwardly. Who the hell did he think they were, a bunch of deep sea adventurers? And what was that jibe about the department? Jake could just imagine what was going down at the station: betting pools galore, everyone wagering on how badly JC2 fucked up its next big deal. Well, Jake sure as hell didn't like having Starr on the team but he wasn't going to let the freak screw things up. JC2 had a reputation to salvage.

"I'm sure you'll be impressed with what you hear," Jake said pleasantly.

Sundhill smirked. "Yes, I'm sure we will. Well, if you'll excuse me, Lieutenant Black. Sergeant Cole. I'd like to have a word with the others." Sundhill saluted the captain and nodded at Black. "I wish you luck putting your team back together. You've got your work cut out for you."

Black returned the nod wordlessly.

Captain Dickerson murmured something into Black's ear before he too walked off to make the circuit of the funeral goers. That left the men of JC2 alone and Black staring blankly at the two holes being filled with dirt.

Jake didn't hesitate, willing to be rejected. He stood behind the other man and placed his hands over the stiff shoulders. When he wasn't immediately shrugged off he began kneading the rock-hard muscles beneath the fabric.

"We're going to be fine," Jake murmured, digging in with his thumbs. Black was so tense the massage had to hurt but the other man didn't make a sound. "JC2 is solid. Bee and Haney are as strong as ever. Sola's a hard-ass but he knows his job. Starr will take some getting used to but it'll happen. Relax, Black. We're gonna be okay."

Black finally reacted then, bringing his gloved hands up to his face and covering it for a second. He immediately dropped his hands again but the action had been telling. Jake didn't care who the fuck was watching; he drew Black back against his chest and hugged him. For once, Black was too tired to fight the embrace.

"I can't make the wrong decisions," he heard his leader murmur. "I can't afford to lose another one of you. I just can't."

Jake pressed his lips against the sable hair, an intimate gesture he'd done only twice before in their five month relationship. "You have this team for a reason, baby. You can handle it and you won't make the wrong decisions. We're here to back you up. Don't forget that."

To Jake's surprise a hand squeezed his arm where it crossed over Black's chest. "Thank you."

The whispered words left him without a reply. He hugged Black tighter and turned his cheek against the brunette hair. He saw Starr watching them, an expression on his face that Jake knew the empath would never have allowed if he hadn't been high on Bliss. It made Jake chuckle.

Black roused himself at the sound. Jake sighed, knowing the time for personal indulgence was over. He could just imagine the thoughts going through Black's head, the reproach for giving into weakness and in front of the department's big shots, no less. Jake dropped his arms and gave him space.

Black half-turned and Jake saw his attention caught by Starr, standing by himself between the rows of crosses. The empath didn't seem to care about the stares he received from the other mourners. Starr had dressed as befitted the occasion and had even pulled his hair back into a loose ponytail and tucked the purple ends back under the band. But everyone knew who he was. JC2's joke. Black's joke.

Did Black see what Jake did, that Starr was a threat? Or did he see what Jake didn't want to -- the cool, beautiful lines of the empath's face, the green eyes that promised intimacy of a sort Jake could never manage? Jake didn't know what Black saw, and for once in his life Jake wished that he were a freak, capable of reading his leader's mind.

Black and Starr stood in the parking lot outside Jubilee's, the police's unofficial watering hole. Black had long since removed his coat and dress collar. He now yanked open the throat of his shirt and sighed as the constriction was released.

"Thank god," he breathed, rubbing at his throat.

He felt the weight of a stare on him and turned to find Starr looking intently at his throat. "You've got marks on your skin," the empath commented.

Black resisted the urge to pull the collar closed. It could have been a bluff.

"Looks like fingerprints," Starr said mildly.

The empath was waiting for a reaction, a defensive reply. Black knew better.

He took the offensive, stepping up to the taller man and lifting a hand to the pale face. Starr flinched before steadying, giving a rueful smile at himself. "Old habits die hard," the empath murmured. Starr remained motionless beneath Black's touch. "The trick is to put an ice pack on as soon as you get home," he said conversationally. "It helps to alleviate the bruising."

"I'll remember that," Black said curtly.

"I hope you won't have reason to."

Black didn't say anything. He used his thumb and forefinger to open a green eye wider. He studied the pupil within before dropping his hand and stepping back. "It's been four hours since I gave you the tab. How do you feel?"

Starr sighed, his usual feline glint back in his eyes. "Like coaxing you into the backseat of a craft and using my tongue to make your toes curl." He laughed at the brunette's expression. "And no, that isn't the Bliss talking, sweetheart, that's all me." He cocked a brow and placed his palm flat on Black's chest. "Interested? There's nothing like some well-administered pleasure to relieve the stress. And I'm very good at--" he ran a tongue across his lips " -- administering."

Black stepped back, breaking the contact. "Do you act like a whore to get a reaction?"

Starr laughed, pulling the band from his hair. Purple-tinged strands cascaded down his shoulders. "I
am
a whore, sweetheart. Didn't you read my file? There's no easier way to score a hit than to trade your body for it. And no," he said with a smirk, "I am not feeling sorry for myself. That's simply how it is. You know. You've seen it."

"You're no longer on the street," Black reminded him. "You're a part of this team and the last time I checked we didn't have need for a whore. It's time you take this assignment seriously, Starr."

Pale lashes shielded the bright green eyes. "I take this more seriously than you know, sweetheart. You'd be surprised."

The empath's tone did surprise Black. Mollified somewhat, he said, "I'd like to take you to the range and test your shooting skills. Do you need to return to the house to change?"

"Will I embarrass you in front of your colleagues dressed like this?" Starr held his arms out and spun.

Black looked over the other man's long black coat, tight black pants and zippered boots. The multiple silver chains around his neck didn't help but the empath looked as conservative as he was probably ever likely to get. Black knew he should take advantage while he had the chance. "You're fine. We'll go now. I'm sorry you won't get to spend time with the others." He indicated Jubilee's behind them.

Starr rolled his eyes. "Miss out on the chance to step in puke and get hit on by drunks who'll only accuse me of seducing them in the morning? If I wanted that I'd have stayed on the street. I'm looking forward to handling your gun, Darkness. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Black just shook his head. Calyx Starr at the range. This was going to be interesting.

Jake felt like he was at a strip joint waving a dollar bill at a ten-dollar dancer. He wouldn’t have been able to flag down the beleaguered bartender if he’d had a bullhorn. "I'm never gonna get a fuckin' beer," he muttered.

"Better order three when you get your turn," Bee advised.

Jubilee's was packed both with the usual off-duty officers and with most of the mourners from the service. Nothing like a good funeral to drive cops to drink.

Bee, who'd been smart enough to head straight for the bar as soon as they'd walked in, picked distractedly at the label on his beer. "I'm feeling a little unsure about Agent Starr," he began tentatively.

Jake glanced at him. "Join the club." He grinned as the bartender finally acknowledged his waving money. Three beers were slid in front of him on the hardwood, one of which he immediately tipped to his lips. "Don't turn your back on that freak whatever you do."

"What do you mean?" Bee looked back at their table, watching Haney and Sola in animated discussion. Well, Haney, anyway. Sola was nodding encouraging the motormouth. Bee smiled. "What reason do you have to mistrust him?"

"For one, he's an empath. For another, he's a junkie."

Bee turned back and stared at the surface of the bar. "He's not a junkie any longer, though, right? I mean, he can't lose it. Black has control of the Bliss."

"Sure. Like I didn't find him high on the porch this morning... Er, shit." Jake mentally smacked himself in the forehead. "Look, forget I said that. It was supposed to be on the down-low."

Bee was looking at him with a strange light in his eyes. "Starr went out and got himself a hit?"

"It's not gonna happen again." Jake waved his beer at the other man for emphasis. "Black had a talk with him. You can be damned sure Starr won't do it again. Not if he wants the continued use of his limbs."

Bee took a deep breath as if mentally gathering himself. "Alright. So he won't be OD'ing on us anytime soon. Maybe that's all that I'm afraid of. Addicts can be so unpredictable."

"Maybe it's the fact that he's a dick?" Jake offered. The suggestion made the other man relax and smile.

"Come on. You're just jealous of him," Bee accused.

Jake's eyes bulged. "Jealous? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm not blind. I saw you with Black at the cemetery, proving your point to Starr." Bee's smile faded. "Come to think of it we all saw it. You'd better be more discreet next time you want to do something like that. You don't know how Dickerson feels about relationships within the team."

Jake scoffed, taking a big swig from his bottle. "What does Dickerson care? He's screwing his way through every hooker booked at the station. He's the last person to talk."

"I'm just saying if Black ever feels like your actions threaten his job--" Bee shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past him to have you transferred."

"What?! Black would never do that. This is our leader we're talking about."

"Exactly. This is
Black
."

Jake thought about it. "Fuck. You're right. JC2 is his life." He sighed. "We really need to get that boy a hobby outside of work."

"Speaking of which--" A body pushed up against Jake's shoulder, nearly making him knock over his beer. Jake told himself to keep his cool. Sola never noticed. "What
does
our fearless leader like to do when he's not busy busting drug lords?" the grim man asked with forced nonchalance.

"What's with all the questions?" Jake sneered, turning around. "You writing your school report on him?"

Sola smiled thinly. While their dress uniform had succeeded in making them all look like movie stars -- in Jake's opinion, anyhow -- Sola only looked more rigid. Like some military school drop-out.
Must be the perma-scowl,
Jake decided.

"Black's my commanding officer now. The one I trust with my life. You can't blame me for wanting to get to know the man better." Sola grinned -- well, bared his teeth which Jake supposed was the man's attempt at a grin. "But Black's tough to get close to. Doesn't like to chitchat which I respect. I just want to know if there's anything we can connect on."

Jake grunted, concentrating on his beer again. "All Black does that I can tell is peck away on the computer or occasionally hit the streets for info." He held up his finger. "But I told him if he does that again I'll kick his ass. He'll get himself killed going out alone like that."

"He does manage to come up with some good info, though," Bee said thoughtfully.

"Huh, wonder how that is. Good connections he won't share?" Sola wondered.

Bee muttered something and abruptly pushed away from the bar. Jake watched him return to their table and speak a few quiet words to an officer who'd begun an intimate conversation with Haney. The officer's eyes widened before he immediately offered his seat to Bee. Bee took the vacated chair and touched Haney's knee beneath the table. Jake snorted. Hypocrite.

"Come on, buddy," Sola said with a forced joviality that made Jake wince. "You know Black better than anyone. What do I have to do?"

Jake sighed. "Look, you wanna work well with Black? The key is don't touch him, don't try to be his friend, just do your job as best you can and he'll love you for it. He may not say it but trust me, he'll love you."

A shadow fell over him. "You should know, eh, Cole? Very touching scene at the cemetery, by the way. Brought tears to my eyes. Really."

Jake lifted his eyes to Will Flaherty, JC1's second-in-command. "Fuck you."

Flaherty, a tall thin reed of a man who seemed to have been with the department since the Dawn of Man, wagged his fingers at Jake. "Fuck me? What, deciding to go legal, are you? Finally realized that Black is jailbait? How's it feel working for someone who was attending his high school prom the same night you were out booking your first bad guy?"