Bad Trip Bad Trip by Jodie Louise Author's website: http://freespace.virgin.net/jodie.mouse Disclaimer: they are borrowed from Alliance Author's Notes: thanks to everyone who put up with me going on about this story in e-mails and LJ posts etc. Story Notes: there is violence in this story, n/c, and graphic female/female sex. Elaine/Frannie and Kowalski/Welsh are paired. some of you may of read 'Trip' -- i have absorbed 'Trip' into this story and added loads to it. oh and i made a pretty piccie to go with this story which is on the version on my site :) Before I've got the shakes. I watch my hands and I can see them quaking. In slow motion like watching movement through strobe lighting. I am nervous. First day of new job -- it is what I have been busting my gut out for -- and why I'm here at all is through sheer stubbornness and willpower. Take a deep breath and I enter the bullpen of the 27th precinct. Kowalski looks up at me and smiles. Things have changed a lot since I was last here all that time ago. Back when I was a rookie in uniform. Working with Vecchio long before the mountie showed up. And then later with Kowalski at the 21st. I can feel someone looking at me, at my ass. I turn to see Frannie behind me. She smiles and holds out her hand. I take it and am pulled into a gigantic hug. "Go for a drink later?" she whispers into my ear. She pulls away and looks me up and down. "You've made us all proud." she says finally, winking at me and going back to her desk. "Kowalski." barks Welsh -- his voice all at once seeming familiar yet strange. He got me this job, so I know he likes me. I have a lot to live up to. I turn and catch his eye, he nods at me, "You too Besbriss." I smile and follow Kowalski into Welsh's office. Detective Elaine Besbriss of Chicago P.D. -- I like the sound of it. A few people are trying to look inside Welsh's office, checking out the new girl. Welsh turns to the window and closes the blinds. He is beaming at me. "Well done, Elaine." Kowalski is shuffling beside me. Fidgets like a kid. "Kowalski. You now have a partner. I'm putting you with Besbriss." "Yes sir." Kowalski replies. "Carry on." Welsh says. Kowalski turns to look at me and grins. "C'mon. We'll go through the cases I'm working on at the moment." I follow Kowalski out of Welsh's office. The rest of the day is spent reading files and getting filled in on Kowalski's latest cases. Every so often I can feel Frannie staring at me. It must be about five thirty when Kowalski leans back into his chair and stretches into a big yawn. The bull-pen has emptied. We are all that's left apart from Frannie and a few Detectives on late shift. "Call it a day, Elaine? Spent so long looking at files I feel like I'm going blind." I nod and get up to fetch my coat, but Frannie is already there. She has my jacket folded up on her arm and touches me on the elbow. "Drink. I invited you to a drink." she says tapping my ass. "Good idea." Welsh voice booms, as he steps out of his office, "Let's all four of us go." Frannie rolls her eyes and Kowalski smirks. He looks up at the Lieutenant and winks at him. Welsh says nothing but the top of his cheeks darken. I take my coat from Frannie and pull it on. Kowalski links his arm in Frannie's and begins to steer her out of the bull-pen. "Hey!" she says, before various swear words, some in Italian by the sounds of it, stream from her mouth. "She isn't very subtle is she?" I ask. Welsh smiles. "You know where you are with her. She likes you...but we thought may be a bit too overwhelming going out with her on your own first night as Detective." "You're my chaperones?" "If you like." The old man smiles, his face all crinkly. I smile back and follow him out of the bull-pen. I am thinking of various ways I could cook Kowalski's balls when he and Elaine return from visiting a suspect. I know what I like and I know how to get it. I want Elaine. So I have the short skirt, low cut crop top and silky stockings on today. I open my compact and touch up my make-up before making my move. "...this whole thing seems wrong to me..." "...do you think he might be covering for someone?..." "...could be. We need to get some more information..." I step up right close to Elaine, close enough so that she can smell my expensive perfume and hand her the file. "It's the file on Townsend you wanted." Today I put on my bra with the extra silicone padding, and thrust my cleavage closer to Elaine. The two Detectives stop talking. Kowalski turns and looks at me. "Okay. Let's get this over with. Elaine, d'ya want to go out with Frannie on a date?" I am ready to punch Kowalski's lights out. The little... "Yes, okay." Elaine replies, as casually as you could get. "Greatness. There's a little bar around the corner that does good food, you" Kowalski says pointing at me, "will take my partner out to that bar and buy her some food." Kowalski is waggling his finger at me. I nod. I don't have a snappy come back this time. But I will have my revenge on the little... "Great. Greatness. Now," he says steering me away from Elaine, "I want ya to go back to your desk and do some work." And I find myself doing as Kowalski says, my feet taking me towards my desk. When I turn around I see Elaine and Kowalski talking quietly over some files. I watch them until Kowalski turns and looks at me. I get up to do some photocopying. I am wet with excitement. Well Kowalski, ya haven't lost your touch. Elaine looks like a kid at Christmas. Even though she is looking through files I can tell she is really excited about her date with Frannie. I am feeling smug and haven't felt so happy since Vecchio ran off with Stella, Fraser ran off with that lesbian Canadian lumberjack guy, and Frannie decided to `come out'. All these things happening in the same week were so surreal, so utterly wrong, but so hilariously funny that I just burst out laughing. Like a mad man. An' now I'm being Mr Matchmaker -- maybe I should retire from Detective work and start running my own dating agency. It was me after all who introduced Fraser to the lesbian lumberjack guy who had a fixation with Monty Python. I still don't know if the lumberjack was a he, she or both -- but hell it don't really matter does it as long as they float your boat. An' yeah, s/he really got Fraser going. The sparks were red hot, so hot they burnt. That's when I knew it was over between us. It sorta sucked but then I didn't really expect this god of a mountie to be exclusively mine forever, an' I knew it was time for me to let go. Then I came back to Chicago to find the guy I used to be has now run off with my ex-wife, in the meantime Frannie `came out' as being lesbian. She reckoned that she used to overcompensate for being gay and that's why she used to drool over Fraser. Of course Ma Vecchio was having fits. The whole thing was too mad for words. So it really didn't surprise when a few mornings later I woke up in bed with Welsh beside me. I was kinda drunk but I think the conversation went something like this: "You shouldn't fraternise with senior officers like that." said Welsh after he saw me (very poorly) attempt to arrange a date with Lieutenant Ferris from the 23rd. "Whatcha gonna do `bout it, Lieu? Discipline me?" Before I knew it he'd shoved me into a storage cupboard. The rest of the night is a complete haze apart from the waking up in the morning bit. An' it kinda works, me and Welsh. An' it will go on working until one of us gets bored of it I s'pose. "You're sly." Elaine says looking at me. "Wha --" I say having to pull myself back into the here and now, "Oh, getting you and Frannie together, yeah." Elaine smiles at me shyly before returning back to her work. Hey, I think I could get used to this matchmaking stuff. I'd first noticed the guy a few weeks ago. He'd come in, well, whizzed in actually, through the store. All blond spiky hair, tight jeans, tight T-shirt. The first time I served him my mouth went dry and my cock got hard. Then I realised I had competition. An older guy -- in his fifties may be -- good, thick curly hair. I could see why Blondie was attracted to him, sort of. The older guy looked like he could hold his own in bed. Probably a great lay...but not that good to look at. I knew they were together. I could just tell. They stand close to each other. Like now. Jack has got me cleaning out the chiller cabinet. Throwing his damn managerial weight around again giving me the crap to do. Anyhow, I'm there watching them with rubber gloves on scraping ice outta the cabinet and spraying disinfectant or whatever this blue stuff is. And I can hear them, talking softly. The older guy with one hand on Blondie's shoulder. Trying to choose what pizza to have tonight. I would say it was sweet but I want Blondie bad. I mean look at me, Tom Dewey, dark good looks, young, damn virile and it's the old guy who probably needs viagra to keep it up who's got Blondie. Eugh. I glance at them a moment, catch Blondie's eye, he just grins at me as they go to the counter to pay. I try not to think about how their bodies would look entwined on their bed. It would be too much. Imagine that old wrinkled prune lying with firm skin and golden hair. Sculptured muscle. So I scrub hard at the inside of the cabinet. I scrub very hard. When they leave I watch them go out of the doors. "Jeez Tom, you got it bad." Says Jack from behind the counter. I look at him and shrug. "He's a cop Tom, outta your league." "A cop?" I ask. "Saw his badge when he went for his wallet." I turn back to the freezer cabinet, spray more of the blue stuff and scrub. Scrub. Scrub. "He's not gonna look twice at a grocery shop guy like you." I don't reply. I keep scrubbing ignoring Jack. Trying to ignore his words but they get into my mind. They echo in my head. Repeating. How does a grocery shop guy get a cop to notice him? Apart from may be running around the store naked wearing just my rubber gloves...there must be a way, there must be a way. I scrub harder. "I don't care what you say Jack, I'm gonna have Blondie just you wait and see." I pretend not to notice Jack's tutting behind me. I know he is rolling his eyes. But I'm gonna have this guy, gonna have him. "Eugh!" screams Frannie running into my arms. "What is it?" I ask, at the same time pulling her close to my body. "Rat. I saw a rat as big as a dog." It had been the perfect night. Good food, too much booze, fun conversation. I had decided I really liked Frannie. Something cute about her and the way she is shy. She is shy, that bravado is all make-believe -- underneath she is sweet and beautiful. Shy of herself, of her looks. And you'd never think of it if you ran into her at the precinct. It's precious. I take her mouth, kiss her deeply. All tongues and heavy breaths. "Elaine." she whispers, a curl of my hair pinched between her fingers. I push her further into the alley where the rat came from. Further and further in. Pin her against the wall. I feel her legs -- smooth with pantyhose. Further and further in. Rip a hole in the nylon. Stick my fingers up there. Her faces melts into pleasure before my eyes, making me wet for her. "Yes." she whispers in a small voice. I nibble at her ear and trail hot kisses along her neck. I feel her hand on my blouse, rough, ripping it open, touching my breasts. It hurts. The pain, as she pinches my nipples but I get wetter, and I push my fingers deeper into her. Deeper. Hot kisses. We laugh when a cat knocks over a garbage can and makes us jump. Now if ya asked me why it worked I couldn't tell ya. All I know is when me and Welsh gets together something fries in my brain and it works. It feels right. I like being his woman. I like spreading myself, I like giving myself to him. Part of it must be him being my, y'know boss, but it's more than that. I feel like he's gonna take care of me and I can't really ask anymore than that. No-one has taken care of me before. No-one. And I need to be taken care of -- I mean you're talking to someone who'll wear the same pair of socks for days and go commando if he's not done his washing. You're talking about someone who forgets when meal times are, who lives on a diet of coffee and junk food. You're talking to a very unhealthy person who don't that much care what happens to them. But when me and Welsh got together, well, he looks after me. He prods me, grizzles at me in that way that he does for me to have a wash or eat green things or change my socks. Sounds sappy. I know it does -- but something about it works. So what am I doing here in a fucking gay bar without him? Well I say all stuff about us but there is something missing. The big small word. Love. I don't love him. I don't. And I need someone to love. So I'm hiding behind the bright lights, loud music, young guys...the young guys... Now I wish I'd been more like them. Then maybe half the shit I went through wouldn't have happened. I mean I liked Stella. I liked men. The two weren't mutually exclusive but Stel thought they were. Stel thought a lot of stuff. The young guys just seem to be...confident, y'know? They know they've got the whole world at their feet. They just know. I'm the aging guy in the corner not up to much. I think they can smell the desperation on me. Desperate for young firm flesh. Jeez. It's not really that, makes me sound shallow, but -- jus' need a -- counterpoint -- a contrast -- to Welsh. And how do I do it, how do I manage to never call him by his first name? What's that all about? After all we're intimate, very intimate. But I don't love him. For me I think it's some kinda bizarre infatuation. I don't know what it is for him. I hope he don't love me. 'Cos if Welsh loves me he's gonna get one hell of a disappointment. I should break it off. But I don't. I like him looking after me. So I take a swig of my beer and look at the young asses shaking their stuff on the dance floor. I try not to let the drool drip from my mouth on to the stripped wooden floor. An' I try to ignore the stiffness of my cock. It had been a bad night. No-one there to take my interest. I had almost thought about going until I saw him -- Blondie -- standing there looking as lost as I felt. Except I never show my weaknesses. He looked weak. Lost. It was being broadcast over the whole entire club. There was an invisible barrier between Blondie and the closest dancers. An invisible fence. Blondie oozed neediness. Could he need me? I saunter up to him, catch his gaze. He nods at me. I grin back. Then Blondie frowns crinkling the skin on his forehead. "Do I know you?" he asks. "You come into my shop, well the place I work." I had decided not to lie, at least about that. Besides he was a cop, would've probably remembered me eventually anyhow. "I remember you now." "My name's Tom." "Ray." he says holding out his hand. And we're shaking hands. I can feel it -- the pull between us. Strong. And pull him closer into a kiss. Make it deeper, feasting on his mouth. When Ray pushes me back his eyes are glazed over. "Where?" he asks. The question jolts straight through me to my groin. "My place." I say, taking him by the hand and yanking him towards the exit. So we're laying in the bed afterwards. I have a hand tangled in Ray's hair caressing the soft spikes. He sighs and leans into the touch. His body sung as I entered him so sweetly. I have Ray's body now. I need to work on the rest. So I don't become a casual fuck just `cos he fancied a change from his sugar daddy. I need to become more than a fuck. And I will. I will. I keep out of sight following Ray back to his apartment. It is very late and there is no-one around so it's quite easy to keep a fix on him. And yeah, he lives a couple of blocks away from the shop. Good. I make myself comfortable outside and watch Ray enter the building. On the way back from Tom's apartment I had been thinking of all kind of excuses why. None of them made me feel any less guilty or any less like I'd done Welsh a great wrong. When I get upstairs my apartment door is half open. I get my gun out and slowly open the door all the way. "Put it away, Ray." slurs Welsh from the couch. I close the door and turn on the light. Welsh has an almost empty bottle of whisky beside him. His eyes look red and his skin ruddy. I re-holster my gun and sit beside him on the couch gently taking the glass out of his hand. "You keep going to that club to get laid." he says. I tangle a hand through my hair. "It's not like that." "Then why do you smell of sex? Why do you smell of another man?" "I thought we had an agreement y'know, an understanding." And I don't think I'd ever said such a bad lie before. Such empty words. Welsh turns to look at me. Crying? His eyes look kinda wet and shiny. "I love you." he whispers. An' I do the only thing I can do -- hang my head in shame. 'Cos I don't love him. Never did. Always for me this was a game -- a stopgap, but somewhere along the line it became more, far more than that for him. He gets up from the couch, a bit unsteady on his feet. I leap up after him. "For what it's worth, tonight was the first time I slept with anyone from the club. Never slept with anyone before that. Jus' danced." Welsh turns to me and nods. He takes the whisky bottle and shuffles out of the apartment. I go to the window and watch him pull his coat around him and leave the building. Better to break it off now. It wasn't gonna go anywhere was it? Kowalski, you are a cowardly bastard. This was better than I thought, viagra boy was drunk. I was surprised when I saw him come out of Ray's apartment but then realised how I could use this to my advantage. So I started following him. And here we were outside his apartment block. It was easy, so easy to follow him in. he didn't notice me -- how could he? Viagra boy barely noticed he was awake. He silently curses to himself as his fumbles with the keys to the lock. Oh yeah. Easy. I slip into the apartment behind him and watch as he heads straight for the bathroom stripping his clothes off as he walks. He turns the light on and starts running the water. Viagra boy is crying. For a few minutes all I can hear is the water flowing and muffled sobs. I creep to the door and watch the bloated prune get into the water. He turns off the taps and lays back. It is easy to push his head beneath the water and to keep it there. It is easy to watch the life drain out of his eyes ever so slowly. The razor caught my eye. I knew what to do. I sliced through the skin -- through the veins in the wrists. Slipped his body and the blade into the water. Water stained pink with blood. This looked good very good. For a while I watched the way the redness curled in the water unfurling like petals. As I leave the apartment I am careful not to touch anything. It is nice when he finally make it to the bed. Frannie turns shy and undresses with her back to me. I watch the way her muscles move beneath skin. She turns -- her nipples hardened. I pull her to me and onto the bed, straddling her. Skin soft and warm. Soft and warm. We make love in many ways. With our fingers, our tongues, our noses. Cover each other's skin like a human blanket. So close to one another. Never felt this close before. And I ache for her -- ache for her. Push her fingers inside me. I want her there. I want her in me. I want, I want... I feel really guilty about yesterday so I get up early and decide to take Welsh breakfast. In my head as I drive over I try and decide what I could say to him to possibly make stuff better. What I could do to make this up to him, but I don't think this is one of those things you can make better. If anything I was gonna make things worse. But I had to try, salve my guilty mind. I buy his favourite pastry and coffee from the shop just around the corner and let myself into his apartment. Welsh's clothes are still strewn over the floor from the night before. The bathroom door is ajar. "Welsh?" I ask. I open the door to the bathroom. It takes me a while to realise the noise I hear is me screaming. I'd never thought a dead body could look beautiful but Welsh did. I kneel down beside the tub and try and pull Welsh out of the water. Stupid. I know he's dead but I think may be if I hold him he'll come back to life. The only heat in the room is from the tears burning a trail down my cheeks. After Since I told Ma that I was lesbian I'd been living in an apartment a few blocks from the precinct. Let's just say I'm not gonna be welcome back to the Vecchio house for quite a while. I think "you'll burn in hell" were the words Ma used. The trouble is I was so fed up of pretending to be someone else. This sexed up angry straight woman desperate for Fraser. I think I chose Fraser `cos I knew he wouldn't take me seriously. Because I knew he was with Kowalski. It felt good to be able to kick back and scream "I am a lesbian" at the top of my lungs. It was good. Miss the family though. Miss them so much. So when Ray appears at the door I think he's here to chew my ear off too, but he's not. The first thing he does is drop his bag and take me in his arms. "How's my sister?" he asks kissing me on the forehead. I look up at him wondering whether to tell the truth or not. "You spoken to Ma?" I ask. "Yeah. I wish you'd told me first -- may be we could've worked out a better way between us." I cannot believe this. A better way to tell her? What had his brain rotted while he'd been in Florida? "A better way? She told me I'd burn in hell." I shout. He puts a finger over my mouth, nods, takes me by the hand and leads me to the couch. We sit side by side. Ray is still holding my hand. "D'you remember Jonny Carello?" he asks. "Wasn't he one of your friends at High School...you were really tight. And then he stopped coming around." Ray nodded. "D'you know why he stopped coming around?" he asked. "No." "Ma found me and Jonny making out on the couch." I'm thinking about it, thinking about it -- and it all kinda makes sense. It takes a lot to stop me giggling. Imagining two spotty, dorky guys making out. I manage to compose myself. "So what did you do?" I ask. "I lied. I told her it wouldn't happen again. That I was curious -- that sort of stuff. Of course it happened again. And again. Angie couldn't handle me being bisexual." "But you still lied to Ma." Ray shrugged. "I'll always be here for you Frannie, you know that." We hug, and I pull back trying to disguise the tears in my eyes. Wouldn't do for Ray to think I'd gone all mushy on him. "So, what are you doing back?" I ask. He laughs. I don't like the sound of it -- isn't like my Ray. "Did you know Kowalski is bi? Should've realised myself, but anyhow let's just say when Stella found out I was too...well...she's got a grudge against bi guys." Ray stretches and leans right back into the couch. "So I decide to come back to Chicago. Ask for my old job back -- Welsh gives it to me, and then a few days later...well I hear he's dead." I nod. Swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "He committed suicide?" Ray asks. "Elaine -- I don't think -- she says there's no note. She doesn't like there being no note." And I can see his detective mind working. He leans forward and looks at me. "Who found him?" he asks. "Kowalski. Look, if you wanna know more you'd be better talking to Elaine or Kowalski." Ray stares at the floor. He seems a million miles away. "Frannie -- they want me to be Lieutenant." I squeal grabbing my brother and kissing him. "I'm acting Lieutenant for the 27th at the moment. Until they decide how they'll replace Welsh. I don't think they'll ever be able to replace him, at least not properly." And my brother hasn't moved at all, is just staring at the floor. I know he wanted to be Lieutenant one day. But not because of another man's blood. I take his hand, squeeze it and we sit in silence. "What is wrong with you today, Tom?" Jack asks after I had knocked some more cans on to the floor. "Sorry," I say, "just need some sleep." Hadn't seen Ray for days either at the shop or at the club. Couldn't understand it -- no way was I gonna be some kinda cheap one night stand. I had got rid of the opposition. I mean Ray couldn't really have feelings for the bloated prune could he? Not after Blondie had slept with me -- I mean I'm Tom Dewey sexy stud. I don't think I've ever heard anyone make so much noise. Besides Ray was mine heart and soul. Mine. I go back to stacking up the cans. I try not to remember how it felt to be inside him otherwise I might cry. For once in my whole life everything had felt right. Everything. My golden man. I knew what I had to do. Have to watch him again -- know what he's doing -- feel a part of his life even if I'm only observing it from a distance. Yes. I can feel myself harden at the thought of watching him. At seeing him again. "They're all saying it was suicide, Elaine. Even Mort." says Kowalski. He is very angry. Ray has started to raise his voice. It feels like the whole bullpen is looking at us. "But there was no note." "It doesn't matter." spits Kowalski. There is something he is not telling me -- I know it. We haven't been partners for long, but I can tell he isn't being honest with me. "So, what do you know that makes you so sure that it was suicide then?" I snap at him. Kowalski is a brilliant detective but when he loses his temper...his control just seems to go out of the window -- this is one of those times. He's glaring at me. Anger reigned in, barely in check. If I was a guy I think he might've hit me by now. The tension between us is so thick and dangerous. "What possible reason could he have for committing suicide?" I ask, "Do you know of a reason then?" Ray looks at the floor, clenching his fists. I don't understand his reaction -- don't understand what is going on in his head. Finally he looks up at me, looks me straight in the eyes. "Trust me on this one." he says clutching my arm, "It's a hunch, instinct whatever. A gut feeling." "Okay Ray. Okay." I say shaking myself free from his hold. "I'm gonna get some coffee." he mutters walking away. I know he is holding out. I know there is something he isn't telling me. So I'll do some snooping. Try and find out for myself this thing that Kowalski isn't telling me. On my first day he said "You've gotta be honest with your partner" and it hurt to think he wasn't being honest with me now. So I go back to my desk, chew on the end of my pen. Why? That was my problem. I couldn't figure out why. "Elaine." I hear a familiar voice say. I turn around and look up. "Ray! Ray Vecchio." He smiles and gestures towards Welsh's office. Which is Vecchio's office now. For the time being. "Sorry," I say blushing, "Lieutenant. Sir." "Come on," he says, "I wanna hear about Welsh." I nod and follow him into the office. He killed himself. He killed himself because of me. I can't believe that Elaine could even think...but she doesn't know. No one knows. We were careful. I thump the coffee machine. Need to feel the pain as I hadn't been feeling anything since I found Welsh's body. Just been numb. Cold. At least if I can feel the pain I know I'm human. I know I'm human. `Cos I'm having serious doubts after what I did to Welsh. Serious doubts. I rest my forehead against the machine and try to pull myself together. Can't let Elaine see me like this -- she will work it out -- she's too sharp. She already knows something is up. Can't face this today. I rub my eyes -- pull my hand through my spikes. I'll go home. Need to get out of here. Need to put some space between me and the precinct. I try not to run out of there, do not meet anyone's eyes, and make it to the GTO without being stopped. Greatness. Need to get out of here. I'd told Jack I was sick. Didn't take me long to find the best place to see Blondie's apartment from. Settled down to wait for Ray to get back. Didn't have to wait long. His car pulled up outside the block. I lose sight of him when he goes into the building, but see him again when he opens the door to his apartment. What a show I am treated to. I get the binoculars and watch as Blondie strips off his clothes. Golden skin, muscle. I watch as he runs his hand through his hair. The tattoo marks his skin as I want to mark him as being mine. As I want to mark him as being mine. I swear as he goes into the bathroom. Didn't think of that. I get hard imagining Ray naked beneath the water, water sluicing across gold encased muscle and taunt skin. It is too much. I reach for my cock and jerk off. I am licking the stickiness from my fingers when I notice another car pull up outside the block. A bald guy in an expensive coat gets out. A couple of minutes later I am treated to the sight of Blondie pulling on sweatpants and a vest and getting the door. It's the bald guy. What is it with Blondie? I zoom in on the bald guy and notice that he also has a big nose. First it's viagra boy and now bald big nose. Why can't he see he's meant to be with me? The anger rises in me as I watch them. Ray is supposed to be mine. I hate getting the door when I've just got out of the shower. Pull some sweat pants on and a vest. It's Vecchio. Acting Lieutenant Vecchio. Aw, shit. "Can I come in Kowalski?" "Okay." I say running my hand through my spikes and closing the door behind him. "I've been speaking to Elaine." "Yeah?" "About Welsh. You know something." "Nah. Elaine's got it wrong." Vecchio gets up close and personal grabbing my arms. "I don`t think so." he says. I shake Vecchio off of me. "Are you gonna tell me Kowalski or am I gonna..." I lunge at him. Grab the lapels of his coat. "Gonna do what Vecchio? Beat me up? If ya didn't notice you're not in the mob anymore." "No." he says, gently prising my fingers from his coat, "I'm a cop. I'm a Lieutenant who wants to know what's going on with one of the best cops on the 27th." I turn from him, barely controlling my anger. Reigning it in. Gonna have to tell him, and it stinks. Stinks. My throat hurts -- I keep my eyes fixed on the wall. Take a breath. And I tell him. "We were sleeping together me and Welsh. That night I found him back here -- I'd gone to a club to pick up another guy. More or less finished it with Welsh. In the morning I went to go smooth things out, and..." "Jeez Kowalski." says Vecchio hauling me from the wall and looking at me face to face, "Do you realise..." "Yeah. But it was suicide, you didn't see how he was that night." "I could take your badge, for withholding information for a start." "Don't," I plead clutching his arms, "don't. That guy I slept with didn't even mean anything. Just a fuck, just a...and now." `Cos I wanted my job. Wanted my job `cos after everything it was the only thing which was gonna keep me sane. "Kowalski. Ray. You've got to make a statement." And I know what Vecchio says is right. But I also know it would be the end of everything. One way or another I was gonna lose my job. "I'll be the fag cop. I mean people thought that about me and Frase but until someone actually admits to it...well it's just gossip." I sigh, "Ya might as well take my badge." Because what sort of career would I have left? Who would want to be my partner, to be my boss? The fag cop who had an affair with his Lieutenant. Elaine would -- Elaine might -- Fraser would -- but he's freezing his butt off in Canada. But who else? Who else? Vecchio stares at me. I go to the counter and get my badge and gun. I offer them to him. He shakes his head. "I'm not taking your badge and gun. Take some leave. Let me think what to do about this." I nod. Give in. Can't resign if your boss won't accept the resignation letter. I watch as Vecchio goes to the door. This is gonna be hard. Very hard. Vecchio's trying, really trying. And I've got to say something, got to say something to let him know I know. "Vecchio," I say, "I'm sorry about what happened with Stella and that." He turns to me and smiles. "She's one hell of a woman, Kowalski." "Yeah." "Take care." he says. When he's gone I collapse against the door and cry. I truly am Kowalski the fuck up. Hug my knees to my body. Think that may be if I scrunch myself up small enough that I'll disappear. At first I think I'm imagining it then I realise someone is knocking my door. "Vecchio. I do not want to talk to you at the moment." I groan, back stiff from leaning against the hard wood. "Ray, it's Tom." "Tom?" I mean who the fuck is Tom? "From the other night." That Tom. I get up and open the door and see him standing there. Then I remember. I never gave this guy my address so how did he know...? And I block the blow to my head far too late. Far too late. "Besbriss, my office." snaps Vecchio as he breezes into the bullpen. I leave my file on the desk. Frannie looks up at me as I enter the office. She smiles. I try and smile back but the muscles in my face don't work. "I just wanted to tell you. I've made Kowalski take leave. He's not thinking straight at the moment." Vecchio gestures towards a chair. I take my cue and sit down. "Now, I want you to tell me why you think Welsh didn't commit suicide." I look down at my hands. "There was no note. The cuts to the wrist -- the angle. The amount of alcohol in the blood." "Not good enough." says Vecchio leaning across the desk, "You could say it was suspicious but still it points to suicide." "It's a feeling I have." I say, firmly, trying to stop my voice from shaking. "So, if it wasn't suicide who killed him?" "I don't know, Sir." I mumble. "Because you realise that if we turn this into a murder investigation the only suspect we got is Kowalski." "No. It wasn't him." I knew that. I knew it couldn't be him. "If you want to turn this into a murder investigation you're gonna have to prove that it wasn't him. Do you see the problem here?" I nod. Because I did. I needed evidence not gut feelings. "Do you know, I really miss Benny sometimes. He would lick Welsh's bath tub or something and be able to work it out from that." sighs Vecchio, collapsing into his chair. His starts massaging his temples. "I'm taking you off the case." he says, avoiding looking at me. "Sir." I protest, standing, angry, ready to... "No. It stops here. As far as you're concerned Welsh committed suicide." Vecchio says sharply gazing straight at me, not faltering for a moment. "Why do I get the feeling this is to do with Kowalski? Why do I get the feeling you two are cutting me out of this?" I say, barely controlling my anger, "I know I'm new at this but please, Sir. You know what I can do -- we worked together when I was in uniform." "I'm taking you off of the case, that is my final word on the subject." "Sir." I say. It takes all of my control to not run out of the office. By the time I'm back in the bullpen I can hardly see anything -- my vision blurred by angry tears. I remember what my mom said when I first joined the Police department all those years ago. She said "you're a woman and you're black". The worst thing was what was left unsaid. That I would have to work twice as hard as my male colleagues to make detective. And now I'm here...taken off my first big case by Vecchio. What was the point of doing all that work if no-one took you seriously? I could hear Frannie's voice in the background but everything seemed so far away. He is mine. Mine. I have tied golden boy to his bed so he can't get away. I have to punish him, hurt him. He's not supposed to look at other guys -- he's only supposed to have eyes for me. I did think about cutting out his eyes but I think they're too pretty to remove. They look nice in his face. Contrast with his golden blond hair. They wouldn't look as nice if they were bloody and torn and staring at me dead, from the dresser. I smear the blood from Ray's split lip around his mouth. It looks like some gaudy kind of lipgloss. It makes me smile. I lean down and kiss him back to consciousness, wake up my sleeping beauty. Ray's blood is salty on my lips. As he wakes he moans and I take that moment to swirl my tongue into his mouth and taste the sweetness there. I lean back to look at my Ray. He frowns -- his eyes glazed over -- doesn't know who I am. I would hit him for that impertinence. I would. But now. Now I want to play games. I smooth his face. Twist my fingers through his hair. Brush my hand against his thigh, move lower and lower to thick curly hair. His cock is soft. I will soon be able to deal with that. As I smooth the ridge Ray's cock leaps in my hand. Remembering me from the other night. Yes. Then I know what I'll do. Let's face it Welsh saying `no' didn't stop Vecchio from going on with cases. I'm gonna do this myself. Fuck all of them. I put my gun in my shoulder holster, take my jacket and begin to walk out of the precinct. I hear Frannie calling after me but I ignore her. I ignore everything. I'm gonna crack this case and I'm gonna start with Kowalski. Find out what's been going on there. I smile. I can do this. I can do this. Shapes. Dark shapes. Black and red. Can't see. Can't do much at all. Think that punch I took didn't really help my sight very much. Weird shapes. Like the time I had that bad trip. I could feel these dark things coming after me. Tearing into me. Feel so dizzy. Concentrate. What can I feel? I'm tied. Can't move. Body on me pinning me down. A hard cock straining against my ass. Shit. I wanna scream. Blackness. Noises. The body off of me. It was keeping me warm. Voices. I feel cold, so cold. Voices. A man. A woman. A shot. A shot. Warm sticky liquid. Blackness. End Bad Trip by Jodie Louise: jodie.mouse@virgin.net Author and story notes above.