Original fic - SCU
May. 15th, 2005 05:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardIn the wake of the sea of original supernatural cop fic sweeping the fandom (or at least my tiny corner of it), here's mine.
See, there's the NYPD, and one part of it is the SCU (Special Crimes Unit), which deals with "weird" crimes. Understandably, it's sometimes called the "spooky" or "supernatural" crimes unit. The detectives working SCU are a third criminalist, a third cop, and a third Buffy. Sometimes it's hard to haul a vampire or a werewolf in for murder, and sometimes an exorcism is required. Other times it's a case of rounding up and rendering powerless a witch or priestess, and there's been the odd case dealing with gods and demons playing around in the world.
Anyway, I've been writing in drips and drabs about a pair of partners, Daisy Callahan (he's a guy. Don't ask.) and Carmine Dellacroce.
See, through some stuff that happens that I don't know, Daisy ends up in the ER. Carmine's waiting outside the door when another cop happens by, and Other Cop gives him a warning, "Blood's thicker than water or wine, and Callahan always was just like his father." Carmine confronts Daisy, later.
"Y'wanna know about my dad?" Daisy asked flatly, beating his head back against the cupboard door. "My dad was a cop. A good cop." He looked at Carmine as though expecting his partner to rebuff this statement, but Carmine just stared back at him. Waiting.
"My dad was a good cop," Daisy repeated, as if he had to hear it again to believe it. He drew in a narrow smoker's breath and raised the bottle of Jack Daniels to his mouth. "My third week in the Police Academy, my dad shot his partner five times in the chest with his service pistol. All in an inch of each other." He looked over at Carmine again, and the madness in his eyes clearly said, well. What are you waiting for? Beat the shit out of me and get it over with. It was the impatient expectation waiting there that made Carmine sick in the back of his throat.
When Carmine didn't say anything, Daisy continued, his voice expressionless. "Then he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger."
Carmine flinched in automatic reflex. Daisy must have seen it, because he looked away, smiling grimly. "Yeah," he said. "My blue blood's tainted. I'm a cop-killer's kid."
And then some time later, when Daisy's missing and Carmine hauls in a suspect. These things never go well.
Carmine clenched his hands in his pockets and when he cocked his head to the side he knew it was with too-calculating ice in his eyes. The NYPD officer had backed off, leaving only the cold-hearted cold-blooded mobster in its wake. There was a reason, he supposed, he'd grabbed the Glock instead of his service pistol this morning.
"Where's my partner?" he asked.
Tirean's lip curled up a little to expose a set of very nice fangs. Not quite vampire worthy, but decent for a human - if Tirean was one, which Carmine sincerely hoped. It would make killing him that much easier. "He's dead."
"You're lying," Carmine said flatly.
Tirean revised his answer. "He will be, long before you ever find him. Not that it'll take you much time to look, since he'll be sitting on your front porch."
Carmine touched the gun at his side lovingly, regretfully, then nodded to the uniforms standing behind Tirean. They hauled him to his feet, hands recuffed behind his back.
"You'd better hope not," Carmine said. "For your sake."
See, there's the NYPD, and one part of it is the SCU (Special Crimes Unit), which deals with "weird" crimes. Understandably, it's sometimes called the "spooky" or "supernatural" crimes unit. The detectives working SCU are a third criminalist, a third cop, and a third Buffy. Sometimes it's hard to haul a vampire or a werewolf in for murder, and sometimes an exorcism is required. Other times it's a case of rounding up and rendering powerless a witch or priestess, and there's been the odd case dealing with gods and demons playing around in the world.
Anyway, I've been writing in drips and drabs about a pair of partners, Daisy Callahan (he's a guy. Don't ask.) and Carmine Dellacroce.
See, through some stuff that happens that I don't know, Daisy ends up in the ER. Carmine's waiting outside the door when another cop happens by, and Other Cop gives him a warning, "Blood's thicker than water or wine, and Callahan always was just like his father." Carmine confronts Daisy, later.
"Y'wanna know about my dad?" Daisy asked flatly, beating his head back against the cupboard door. "My dad was a cop. A good cop." He looked at Carmine as though expecting his partner to rebuff this statement, but Carmine just stared back at him. Waiting.
"My dad was a good cop," Daisy repeated, as if he had to hear it again to believe it. He drew in a narrow smoker's breath and raised the bottle of Jack Daniels to his mouth. "My third week in the Police Academy, my dad shot his partner five times in the chest with his service pistol. All in an inch of each other." He looked over at Carmine again, and the madness in his eyes clearly said, well. What are you waiting for? Beat the shit out of me and get it over with. It was the impatient expectation waiting there that made Carmine sick in the back of his throat.
When Carmine didn't say anything, Daisy continued, his voice expressionless. "Then he put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger."
Carmine flinched in automatic reflex. Daisy must have seen it, because he looked away, smiling grimly. "Yeah," he said. "My blue blood's tainted. I'm a cop-killer's kid."
And then some time later, when Daisy's missing and Carmine hauls in a suspect. These things never go well.
Carmine clenched his hands in his pockets and when he cocked his head to the side he knew it was with too-calculating ice in his eyes. The NYPD officer had backed off, leaving only the cold-hearted cold-blooded mobster in its wake. There was a reason, he supposed, he'd grabbed the Glock instead of his service pistol this morning.
"Where's my partner?" he asked.
Tirean's lip curled up a little to expose a set of very nice fangs. Not quite vampire worthy, but decent for a human - if Tirean was one, which Carmine sincerely hoped. It would make killing him that much easier. "He's dead."
"You're lying," Carmine said flatly.
Tirean revised his answer. "He will be, long before you ever find him. Not that it'll take you much time to look, since he'll be sitting on your front porch."
Carmine touched the gun at his side lovingly, regretfully, then nodded to the uniforms standing behind Tirean. They hauled him to his feet, hands recuffed behind his back.
"You'd better hope not," Carmine said. "For your sake."
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-16 01:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-17 12:31 am (UTC)Carmine and Daisy are...a little scary, as much for their history as for their personalities. I mean, they're fun guys, but they're also detectives that have to deal with things ordinary cops and detectives can't.