Characters: Dee, Ryo.
Setting: Early Vol. 2.
Summary: Dee and Ryo are having a bad day at work due to a serious error of judgement; they each have their own ways of dealing with the resulting frustrations.
Word Count: 858
Written For: Prompt 82: Footwork at anythingdrabble.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.
A/N: This is the extended version o the ficlet posed to the community.
Not even experienced cops got it right all the time; even the best amongst them were still only human, and as such, far from perfect. Not that it made Dee and Ryo feel any better about their current situation. They were having to face the fact that a guy they’d recently questioned as a potential witness to a homicide was almost certainly the murderer they’d been looking for, but… they’d thanked him for his help and sent him on his way. When they’d realised their mistake they’d gone out to bring him in again, only now it was as if he’d dropped off the face of the earth. His apartment was empty and his landlord said he’d moved out two days ago, right after they’d questioned him.
Unsurprisingly, both detectives were in sour moods when they returned to the precinct; Dee took himself straight up to the roof where he chain-smoked half a pack of cigarettes, which was all he had on him. Ryo went in the opposite direction, downstairs to the firing range, intending to blow off steam with some target practice, imagining the targets were the missing murderer and blowing them to hell and back.
The huge basement room was empty when he got down there; usually at this time of day there’d be at least one or two other cops putting in some practice, as all the 27th’s detectives and uniformed officers were expected to every week, but not this time. His footsteps echoed off the walls and ceiling as he walked across to one of the firing lanes, where he hung up his jacket and drew his gun.
Alone, somehow shooting at paper targets wasn’t proving as cathartic as it usually did, so after re-loading Ryo took off his shoulder holster, leaving it and his gun hanging from one of the firing lane partitions, and removed his shoes and socks. The floor tiles felt cold beneath his bare feet but Ryo ignored the chill, knowing he’d soon warm up as he turned to his other method of burning off a bad mood; physical exercise.
He started off with some warm-up exercises, stretching out tense muscles; the last thing he needed was to make things worse by injuring himself. Winding up with strained muscles or torn ligaments wouldn’t improve his mood and would hamper his ability to do his job. Once he felt sufficiently loose, he moved on to some basic karate kata, and from those gradually worked his way up to the more advanced forms, feeling his body flowing smoothly from one position to the next, turning, punching, kicking, blocking an imaginary opponent, putting everything else out of his head. It felt good and soon he was concentrating so single-mindedly on what he was doing that he didn’t hear the door to the firing range open and somebody come in.
After Dee had run out of cigarettes he’d headed down to the squad room, looking for his partner, intending to suggest that they get back out on the street and start trying to track down their murderer, assuming the bastard hadn’t already skipped town. He needed to pick up another pack of cigs anyway so he figured he might as well do some work at the same time. Ryo hadn’t been there though so he’d asked around until he’d found someone who’d seen him heading downstairs to the firing range.
“Should’a known that’s where you’d go,” Dee muttered, jogging down the stairs and pushing the door open, only to stop and stare; now there was a sight worth seeing! He watched in silence for several minutes, just enjoying the total hotness that was Ryo Maclean in action; he looked like something out of a Jackie Chan movie. Couldn’t stand there staring forever though; sooner or later Ryo was bound to notice him, and then Dee would be in trouble, so… “That’s some real fancy footwork ya got goin’ on there. Gotta say I’m impressed.”
Ryo pulled up short, mid-kick, and slowly lowered his raised foot to the floor, flushed with exertion and looking faintly embarrassed at having been caught. “Dee! What’re you doing here?”
“It’s the firin’ range; I was lookin’ for you, figured this was where you’d go to blow off steam.” Dee sauntered over, hands in pockets. “I had no idea you knew that martial arts stuff.”
Ryo shrugged awkwardly. “I’m out of practice. Used to train every day but looking after Bikky takes up a lot of time and energy.”
“Looked pretty damned good from where I was standin’. ‘Course, I’m no expert.”
Ryo quickly changed the subject. “Any news on our fugitive?” They’d called in an APB on their way back to the precinct.
“No such luck, least ways not so far, but I doubt he’ll give himself up so we should probably get out there and start lookin’, track down anyone who might know where he’s holed up.”
Ryo nodded. “I’ll get my jacket and gun.”
“Might want to put your shoes on too.”
“I know that!” Ryo strode over to where he’d left his things. Downtime was over; they had work to do and a murderer to catch.