dog-eat-dog

The pen scratched across the piece of paper that had been folded and unfolded often enough that it had started to go soft at those folds. White lines spiderwebbing through the black and blue chicken scratch of his handwriting. All of it overlaid with those red circles. Ares capped the pen, slapping a palm down on the top of it meditatively as he stared at the numbers that littered the right side. He could’ve done all this on a computer, neat boxes and calculations instead of his scrawling mess. Eros probably would’ve done but he wasn’t his brother. Hell, Eros had just bought a new build in town when he’d moved here. Ready to move in without an ounce of work to be done, other than carting the furniture up three floors.

He’d done the opposite, as usual. Damn it.

Ares propped his hips back against the desk in the bullpen he’d been using to get caught up on the reports that bred like rabbits when he was putting them off. The paper crinkled in his fingers, the pen hitting the desk with a light thud as his eyes slid shut for a moment. $5860 for a new central air unit. Two full weeks of tinkering with the damn thing, taking the skin off of every knuckle and dislocating a finger trying to just get the bolts out of the thing to remove it in the end, and it was still as dead as it had been at the start. He’d sunk almost every spare buck he had into the house already. This was gonna clear out what was left and leave him in a hole. Lucky for him for the Sheriff had been willing to let him pick up a couple of extra shifts at the front desk.

Three hours out there already today, while Claire had been kicking up her heels on her day off, had been enough for him to beg for a brief escape to the bull pen to work on the reports he always let slide until Forbes was riding his back like a monkey over there. Another couple of months of this and the central air unit would be paid off and he wouldn’t be relying on the fireplace in the living room and the half foot stack of blankets on his bed to make up for the lack of real heating. Hey, that’d just about be in time for summer and roasting his nuts off if it wasn’t sorted.

Hazel eyes slid up from the page at the sudden rise of voices boiling from one corner of the space. One of the new detectives, the moustachioed one with the faintly skeevy looking partner, was in Jones’ face. At the best of times Jones was a blow hard, young, a rule follower to the point where it left you wanting to smack the guy with the rule book sometimes. Claire might’ve suggested there was something similar between the two of them in that regard but she’d have been wrong. He followed it as far as he needed to, not afraid to get creative off book when it was needed.

The minute there was the bite of the F word in the air Ares was rising. Dark brows furrowed as Jones’ seemed to flinch away, his overly confident voice stuttering out now, the request again met with a stuttered refusal. The heat of the detective’s temper was practically palpable in the air, the impression of a cat playing with its owner right there as he started knocking stuff off the desk. Ares’ sighed, shoving the calculations for what he was doing to the house shoved back in a pocket. He straightened up, approaching as the detective snapped at Jones again, taking verbal lumps out of the young idiot that would’ve had Forbes pissed if she’d been here to hear it.

Ares wove his way between the desks, slipping an arm between the two men like a physical barrier would do anything to hold back Jones’ spluttered excuses and the bite of de le Peña’s voice. ”Hey, hey! You want me to put both of you in the drunk tank to cool off? What the hell’s going on?” His scowl deepened even as de le Peña’s words penetrated and he had to pressed his lips together hard to avoid a smirk. ”Why are you being a hard ass Jones? If it’s on our system a warrant’s not needed. You know what, get up?” At the look of outrage turning Jones’ face puce, Ares gestured with his head. ”You go and man the front desk, play nice with the visitors and they might scratch behind your ears. Go!” The hard, clipped tones of the sergeant he’d been leaving no room for argument. As Jones shoved back, brushing coffee from himself, Ares straightened up, arms crossing over his chest. ”You wanna ask me what you asking him for? Nicely?” That was likely a red flag to a bull but the detective would find himself locking horns rather than mowing him down the way he had Jones.

Tagged: ENRIQUE DE LA PEÑA * Word Count: 848

Disturbances weren’t unusual in the station, most people didn’t appreciate being hauled in by the Sheriff and her people after all. Drunk, belligerent, just plain entitled in a town where the Founding Families had practically been treated as Gods since the first one stepped down into the muck here and declared this was where they were gonna be lauded. At the snap of the detectives voice, Ares huffed a breath out through his nose. This one hadn’t come from the hallowed loins of any of those five families and he wasn’t getting the tell-tale antiseptic stench reeling on his breath, it was the second category for sure, but he’d tossed the threat of the drunk tank out there anyway and it'd gotten him just the response he’d aimed for.

Dark brows rose, a purposefully bland look on his face as he eyed the detective. His hand was splayed, like it was going to block any of that bitter bite of temper, fingertips hovering an inch from the guy’s shirt. Ares waited for his voice to break off, not giving the guy the satisfaction off him trying to slap his own hot words over ones already sizzling. ”Did I say just you Detective?” He put weight on that. Yeah, he’d said it, the guy had a badge, shoulda had the common sense that was meant to come with it not to let this spill over only a couple dozen feet from the Sheriff’s office. Forbes woulda done worse than make what was pretty obviously an empty threat. ”You’re both breaching the peace, I’d say that’d be enough to have an officer intervene.” Broad shoulders rose and fell beneath the starched uniform shirt. Claire would’ve been a peacemaker in all of this, slithering in with that friendliness that let her charm the ruffled.

He just didn’t care about the guy’s feathers and using his weapon was almost always frowned upon. Shame.

Ares dipped his chin, hiding the amusement de le Peña had wrung out of him with a purse of his lips. He tilted his head, encouraging Jones up out of his seat, spluttering like a mad cat. This guy had nothing on Fluffy though. He’d probably pout the rest of the afternoon, shooting the detective those sulky little looks while he grumbled about strict lines and paperwork, forms that would end up just filed away the same way as everything else in this place, never to see the light of day again. Watchful eyes remained on Jones’ back as he walked away, catching the stiffening of the guy’s shoulders. This time the amusement broke through momentarily, the twisting of his top lip flashing a canine.

Same ass Jones he could’ve been a complete asshole about the detective’s request. It probably would’ve pushed de le Peña to Vesuvius like heights, that temper spluttering in a way that made Jones look like the puppy he’d been accused of being. That same bland look had been turned in the detective’s direction though, the smirk turned inwardly as he forced the guy to use his grown up words instead of those barked orders. ”What would you like me to look up Detective?” Ares tried again, tilting his head at the guy. ”I can call him back if you want. I’m sure he’d be even less reluctant to give you what you need right now.” Gunnery Sergaent Patera would’ve come down on this guy like a ton of bricks, turning that rod up his ass into something to beat him with but Ares merely held his ground, drifting into that damning silence that either would’ve left de la Peña raging again or … taking the high road, biting that temper back to ask for what he wanted.

No please though.

Not pushing it, Ares dropped into the chair that Jones had abandoned. He gripped the edge of the desk, tugging himself in close to it before he tapped in his username and password for system access. The detective was obviously anal, or just trying to piss out his territory again. No wonder his partner always looked ragged around the edges, anyone would be if they spent all day trying to appease the angry God. ”MMAgnetic? The gym? Something shady’s going down there?” A dark brow was winging at that. He’d been in a couple of times to train, had liked to think if there was something going on he’d have at least got some sense of it. The Club, that was another matter. It had never appealed the way the Grill or Campbell’s had. Maybe for good reason.” Ares typed in the search terms, let the system rattle and hum as it worked its way through all the files someone had painstakingly digitised in the last couple of years. ”You tried the county office for more on the Club and gym?” Those sorts of business files didn’t tend to end up here, only reports and statements. Ares let out a whistle as they started to rack up on the screen though. Looked like there were plenty of mentions of the club, not so many on Crane or MMAgnetic.

Tagged: ENRIQUE DE LA PEÑA * Word Count: 852