badly_knitted (badly_knitted) wrote,
badly_knitted
badly_knitted

FAKE Fic: Bigger They Are...

Title: Bigger They Are...
Fandom: FAKE
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Dee, Ryo, OMC.
Rating: PG
Setting: After Vol. 7
Summary: Dee and Ryo get into a bit of an altercation with a possible suspect.
Word Count: 1487
Content Notes: None necessary.
Written For: Challenge 190: Rebound at beattheblackdog.
Disclaimer: I don’t own FAKE, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Sanami Matoh.




Until that moment Dee had been completely unaware that he could bounce without the assistance of a trampoline, or a very springy mattress. Huh. Learned something new every day, although he could have wished there’d been a less painful way to find out this new and interesting fact about himself. Some guy the size of King Kong, and just as hairy, had plucked him off his feet like he weighed nothing and hurled him bodily against the wall; he’d rebounded, arms and legs flailing, crashed to the floor, and… bounced. Honest to God, he’d hit the plush carpet, actually risen several inches off the floor again like the indecently deep pile was concealing a bunch of springs, although the solidity of the floor gave the lie to that, then crashed back down again, knocking most of the breath out of himself.


He supposed the carpet could be partially responsible for his unexpected new talent; it was the expensive kind, so deep you could probably swim in it if you had a mind to, but still, he didn’t remember ever bouncing like that before. On further thought, he decided it wasn’t an experience he particularly wanted to repeat. Bouncing on a trampoline was one thing, there was a reason they were so popular; bouncing on a solid and unforgiving floor was another matter entirely.


He wasn’t completely convinced he hadn’t broken something, either when he rebounded off the wall, or when he made the acquaintance of the floor. Twice. Lying there, unable to move yet and trying his best not to groan because he couldn’t afford to waste precious air, he resigned himself to his fate as he waited for the ape to pick him up and bounce him around the room a bit more; there were still quite a few surfaces he hadn’t been thrown at. Surprisingly, that failed to happen, although he was dimly aware through the fog of pain and lack of oxygen there was definitely something happening not too far away. A fight, if the sounds were anything to go by, grunts of effort mixed with sundry crashes and thuds.


Gathering his wits as best he could and at last managing to draw one painful breath after another as his lungs remembered how to breathe, Dee levered himself slowly up before he could drown in the carpet pile, got as far as hands and knees, then had crawl shakily over to the nearby sofa and use it as leverage to help him regain his feet. He spared a moment to wonder why he couldn’t have landed on that instead of the floor. The seat looked deep and soft and squashy, and although he’d have probably rebounded from it onto the floor, it might have hurt less.


On legs that didn’t feel entirely stable, having developed an alarming tendency to wobble at unexpected moments, Dee followed the noises out of the obscenely vast expanse of what appeared to be the lounge, across an equally vast entrance hall almost the size of the squad room at the two-seven, and into what could have been either a study or a home office, arriving just in time to see a seriously impressive roundhouse kick take the ape high in the chest and slam him into a nearby wall, much the way Dee had been slammed a few minutes earlier.


‘Ha! See how you like it, jerk!’ Dee gloated to himself. There was something very satisfying about seeing his attacker on the receiving end. Maybe he should feel bad about enjoying the sight, but he didn’t; bastard totally had it coming!


Like Dee, the ape rebounded when he hit the wall and crashed to the ground. Unlike Dee, despite being well padded, he failed to bounce. Probably too heavy, and the floor here was polished hardwood, not the expensive carpeting gracing the lounge. Dee was pretty sure he felt the whole house move from the impact.


Ryo stood poised on the balls of his feet, eyes fixed on his opponent, ready and waiting for him to get up and resume his attack, but it looked like the ape was down for the count. Gradually Ryo’s shoulders relaxed and he lowered his guard. Dee noticed his partner was breathing in ragged gasps; must’ve been one hell of a fight.


“Nice takedown,” he croaked, leaning in the doorway, letting the wall keep him more or less upright.


Tearing his eyes away from the downed ape, Ryo glanced back over his shoulder, eyes raking over his lover from head to feet, assessing him for injury. “You okay?”


“Still in one piece, mostly. The carpet back there broke my fall. Guess our friend there wasn’t so lucky.”


“That’s fine with me; I’d rather have him unconscious right now.” Ryo pulled out his handcuffs and limped across the floor to the downed man, crouching with a hiss of breath between clenched teeth before pulling the ape’s meaty arms behind his back and cuffing him. Looking up at Dee he held his hand out. “Give me yours too; won’t hurt to use both sets, just as a precaution. This guy’s strong.”


“I noticed that.” Pushing off from the nice, friendly, supportive wall, Dee tottered unsteadily across a few endless yards of floorboard to his partner, handing over his cuffs. Ryo snapped them in place but left their captive lying face down. Big as he was, Dee wasn’t sure even their combined strength would be enough to turn him over.


Something occurred to him. “Hey, where’s your gun?”


“Um, under the desk I think.” Ryo glanced sheepishly at his partner. “He threw a statue at me and I guess I dropped my weapon trying to get out of the way.”


The statue in question, something heavy and bronze, lay on the floor a short distance away; the boards beneath it looked cracked.


“Yeah, not surprised; anyone with an ounce of sense would’a dropped everything to get clear of that.”


“I hope it isn’t damaged; it looked like an antique.”


Trust Ryo to worry over something like that. Dee shook his head. “Think it’s safe to say the floor came off worst. Good thing it didn’t hit ya.” They might not be having this conversation if it had; his partner would probably just be a smear on the floor.


Ryo floundered a little trying to get back on his feet so Dee gave him a hand up, somehow managing to stay upright himself. “You’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question.


“Jarred my knee kicking him; that guy’s built like a brick wall. Who is he anyway and what was he doing in here?”


Dee shrugged. “Search me! I’d check for I.D. but I think we’d need a crane to move him. Maybe best to wait for him to come round, then maybe we can ask.” Dee wobbled away to retrieve Ryo’s automatic from the floor on the other side of the desk, holding on to the desk chair to avoid falling flat on his face, and returned it to its owner. “Here ya go.”


“Thanks.” Checking the safety was on, Ryo returned the weapon to his holster. “Where’s yours?”


Frowning, Dee patted his empty holster. “Uh, good question. Somewhere in the lounge probably, I kinda lost track of it after I hit the wall. I’ll go look for it while you call for backup, ‘kay?”


“Okay.”


At least Ryo’s radio was still attached to his belt. Dee’s wasn’t and he had a horrible feeling that, wherever it currently was, it would likely be broken beyond repair. He had a vague memory of something going crunch and hoped he wouldn’t be expected to pay for a replacement. He and Ryo had been doing their job, investigating a homicide, starting with visiting the home of the deceased. He hadn’t been killed where his body had been found so they were still trying to locate the primary crime scene, only they’d arrived here to find the door ajar and on hearing suspicious noises coming from within, had entered, announced themselves, and then before either of them had been able to take evasive action, Dee had been launched through the air… Maybe they should’a called for backup before entering; hindsight was supremely unhelpful.


“Backup’s on the way,” Ryo called.


“Good. Hope they send someone strong.” Dee found his gun half buried in the carpet near a glass-fronted cabinet, and his radio on the floor below the cracked plasterwork where he’d hit the wall. Broken, of course. Forcefully hitting a solid wall will do that. He left it where it was, evidence of the fight. The crime scene guys could collect it later when they arrived to do their stuff. Sighing resignedly, he trudged back to Ryo to wait for their suspect to wake up. Days like this, he found himself wondering why the hell he’d ever wanted to be a cop. There had to be less hazardous ways of making a living.



The End

















 
Tags: beattheblackdog, dee laytner, fake, fake fic, fic, fic: one-shot, fic: pg, other character/s, ryo maclean
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