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asphaltcowgrrlTitle: One Last Dance
Fandom:Romani Redheaded Detective original fiction
Pairing: James Rosewood + Jake Hansen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,148
Summary: James and Jake get asked to find a very unusual object on their way back to James’ car.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My prompt was the Tom Petty song “Mary Jane’s Last Dance”. I was excited because not too long ago, I read a news story that I thought would make a great fic and this gave me the opportunity to do so. So… based on a true story. Just not my true story.
“That was a bust,” Jake Hansen said as he and James walked out of the witness’ house and onto the sidewalk.
“Half the time it usually is,” James agreed. He scrubbed a hand through his copper-colored hair and sighed. “Hazard of the job, I suppose.”
“Especially when dealing with drugs and those who use and or sell them,” Jake added. “The car’s down here, I think.”
They turned down the sidewalk and headed towards James’ car. It was getting late and the desert sun was beginning to take its toll on them both. Although Jake hated the heat, it was harder on James with his fair skin. He swore he could feel his skin burning even when they were inside.
“You’re one hell of a redhead,” a voice called out to him.
Looking up, James spotted the speaker sitting on the steps leading up to his front door. He was an older man, shirtless in the heat, with a few wispy white hairs still stuck to the top of his head. Jake stopped beside James and grinned. “He sure the hell is, isn’t he?”
He gave his partner a withering look and turned back to the ragged old guy on the porch. “It was a shock to my parents who are both brunettes.” It had been funny listening to a not-so-very religious uncle recount his birth and his father’s dismay upon seeing all the red hair on his first-born’s head. If Edward Rosewood hadn’t been such a pious man, he might have accused his wife of infidelity then and there.
“It gets worse the more time he spends in the sun, too,” Jake added unhelpfully.
It was true though. His hair morphed into something closer in color to a pumpkin latte during the winter months, but the summer sun brought out the true glory of his gingerness. “Have a nice day, sir,” James told the fellow and started off towards the car again.
“Wait,” he hollered. “You two are cops?”
Jake glanced at James and shrugged. The old guy must’ve spotted one of their badges as they’d been walking. “Yes, why? Do you need help?”
“Yeah, I sure do,” he said, struggling to his feet. Jake jogged up the walk and helped the guy stand.
“What’s going on,” Hansen asked. “What can we do to help?”
James stepped forward and stuffed his hands into his pockets, waiting. The guy wasn’t probably more than forty or forty-five, but he looked like he was closer to eighty. The dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkles set deeply into his face aged him dramatically. He wondered for a moment if the guy was an addict and decided not to ask. He’d let the scene play out. They’d know soon enough.
“My marijuana,” he said, leaning forward so that only Jake could hear. “I’ve lost it.”
“You’ve lost your marijuana,” Jake repeated, a little louder for James’ benefit. “Where?”
“Shhhh,” the guy said, waving a hand. “Somewhere in the yard.”
“Okay,” Jake said, visibly trying to hold back his amusement. “You lost your – property – somewhere in the yard.”
Nodding, James began pacing the length of the very small yard, scrutinizing every inch of the ground. “Any idea where you dropped it? I’d hate for a dog to pick it up and carry it off.”
“No,” he said, “no idea. Just keep looking. I can’t afford to lose it.”
“Shouldn’t have bought it in the first place,” James muttered as he canvassed the yard. During his third pass, he spotted something catching the sunlight. Pulling a latex glove out of his pocket, he slipped it on before picking the item up. Holding it up so that Jake could see, he looked towards the old guy on the stoop. “This what you’re missing by any chance?”
“Yes,” the guy said, clearly excited that James had recovered his drugs. “Thank you so much.”
“Jake?” James gave his partner a pair of wide, blue eyes.
“On it, boss,” Jake joked, pulling an evidence bag out of his back pocket. He brought it over to James and held it open. “In we go,” Hansen sang.
James dropped the marijuana into the evidence bag and pulled out his cell. “Some days I wish I still wore a body cam.”
“You and me both, no one’s going to believe this shit,” Jake agreed.
“Hey, wait,” the guy called, stepping off the porch and walking towards the detectives. “What are you doing with my pot?”
“Putting it into an evidence bag so that we can give it to the patrol officers when they arrive,” James said. “Yes, Detective James Rosewood. Need two officers at… what’s the address here again?”
Jake told him and James relayed the information to dispatch, receiving confirmation that a car was on its way and should arrive in the next seven minutes.
“Evidence? You mean you can’t just give it back to me and pretend like you never saw it?”
James laughed. “No, it doesn’t quite work that way, buddy. Maybe if you’d asked a couple of homicide dicks to help you out, you could have gotten away with it.” Not that he believed that, Reyes and Andy would have been all over this idiot worse than he and Jake were. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how a pair like Maxwell and Rollins might handle a situation like this. “But us? We’re in narcotics, this is our bread and butter. Gotta seize the evidence and turn it – and you – over. Sorry, Charlie.”
“Man,” the guy whined. “You fuckin’ cops suck nowadays. You know that?”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” James said.
“Me either,” Jake agreed. “And he’s been on the force a lot longer than I have.”
“Not that much longer, Hansen,” James grunted. How old did this kid think he was anyway? He was about to ask his jerk of a partner exactly that when he saw Jake’s grin. Little punk.
“The car’s here,” Jake said, turning the old guy around and cuffing him.
While Hansen Mirandized the suspect, James strolled over to inform the uniforms what had transpired. They were in agreement that it was the craziest thing they’d heard all week. On the other hand, next week was bound to bring something even more insane. Just give it time.
“Are we done here,” Jake asked.
“We’re done, Hansen,” James replied.
“Good, I think we deserve dinner after that.”
“Huh,” James snorted. “And here I thought I left Reyes with Andy.”
“Dude,” Jake chuckled, “I need to eat too, you know.”
“I’ve got to admit,” James said, unlocking the car doors. “You are much cheaper to feed than the cowboy. Get the hell in, Hansen.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
James flicked his eyes at his partner and sighed. “Oh shut up,” he laughed. Thank God Andy was waiting for him at home or Jake might be walking back to the station tonight.
Fandom:
Pairing: James Rosewood + Jake Hansen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,148
Summary: James and Jake get asked to find a very unusual object on their way back to James’ car.
Author’s Note: Written for the weekend challenge at 1_million_words. My prompt was the Tom Petty song “Mary Jane’s Last Dance”. I was excited because not too long ago, I read a news story that I thought would make a great fic and this gave me the opportunity to do so. So… based on a true story. Just not my true story.
“That was a bust,” Jake Hansen said as he and James walked out of the witness’ house and onto the sidewalk.
“Half the time it usually is,” James agreed. He scrubbed a hand through his copper-colored hair and sighed. “Hazard of the job, I suppose.”
“Especially when dealing with drugs and those who use and or sell them,” Jake added. “The car’s down here, I think.”
They turned down the sidewalk and headed towards James’ car. It was getting late and the desert sun was beginning to take its toll on them both. Although Jake hated the heat, it was harder on James with his fair skin. He swore he could feel his skin burning even when they were inside.
“You’re one hell of a redhead,” a voice called out to him.
Looking up, James spotted the speaker sitting on the steps leading up to his front door. He was an older man, shirtless in the heat, with a few wispy white hairs still stuck to the top of his head. Jake stopped beside James and grinned. “He sure the hell is, isn’t he?”
He gave his partner a withering look and turned back to the ragged old guy on the porch. “It was a shock to my parents who are both brunettes.” It had been funny listening to a not-so-very religious uncle recount his birth and his father’s dismay upon seeing all the red hair on his first-born’s head. If Edward Rosewood hadn’t been such a pious man, he might have accused his wife of infidelity then and there.
“It gets worse the more time he spends in the sun, too,” Jake added unhelpfully.
It was true though. His hair morphed into something closer in color to a pumpkin latte during the winter months, but the summer sun brought out the true glory of his gingerness. “Have a nice day, sir,” James told the fellow and started off towards the car again.
“Wait,” he hollered. “You two are cops?”
Jake glanced at James and shrugged. The old guy must’ve spotted one of their badges as they’d been walking. “Yes, why? Do you need help?”
“Yeah, I sure do,” he said, struggling to his feet. Jake jogged up the walk and helped the guy stand.
“What’s going on,” Hansen asked. “What can we do to help?”
James stepped forward and stuffed his hands into his pockets, waiting. The guy wasn’t probably more than forty or forty-five, but he looked like he was closer to eighty. The dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkles set deeply into his face aged him dramatically. He wondered for a moment if the guy was an addict and decided not to ask. He’d let the scene play out. They’d know soon enough.
“My marijuana,” he said, leaning forward so that only Jake could hear. “I’ve lost it.”
“You’ve lost your marijuana,” Jake repeated, a little louder for James’ benefit. “Where?”
“Shhhh,” the guy said, waving a hand. “Somewhere in the yard.”
“Okay,” Jake said, visibly trying to hold back his amusement. “You lost your – property – somewhere in the yard.”
Nodding, James began pacing the length of the very small yard, scrutinizing every inch of the ground. “Any idea where you dropped it? I’d hate for a dog to pick it up and carry it off.”
“No,” he said, “no idea. Just keep looking. I can’t afford to lose it.”
“Shouldn’t have bought it in the first place,” James muttered as he canvassed the yard. During his third pass, he spotted something catching the sunlight. Pulling a latex glove out of his pocket, he slipped it on before picking the item up. Holding it up so that Jake could see, he looked towards the old guy on the stoop. “This what you’re missing by any chance?”
“Yes,” the guy said, clearly excited that James had recovered his drugs. “Thank you so much.”
“Jake?” James gave his partner a pair of wide, blue eyes.
“On it, boss,” Jake joked, pulling an evidence bag out of his back pocket. He brought it over to James and held it open. “In we go,” Hansen sang.
James dropped the marijuana into the evidence bag and pulled out his cell. “Some days I wish I still wore a body cam.”
“You and me both, no one’s going to believe this shit,” Jake agreed.
“Hey, wait,” the guy called, stepping off the porch and walking towards the detectives. “What are you doing with my pot?”
“Putting it into an evidence bag so that we can give it to the patrol officers when they arrive,” James said. “Yes, Detective James Rosewood. Need two officers at… what’s the address here again?”
Jake told him and James relayed the information to dispatch, receiving confirmation that a car was on its way and should arrive in the next seven minutes.
“Evidence? You mean you can’t just give it back to me and pretend like you never saw it?”
James laughed. “No, it doesn’t quite work that way, buddy. Maybe if you’d asked a couple of homicide dicks to help you out, you could have gotten away with it.” Not that he believed that, Reyes and Andy would have been all over this idiot worse than he and Jake were. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how a pair like Maxwell and Rollins might handle a situation like this. “But us? We’re in narcotics, this is our bread and butter. Gotta seize the evidence and turn it – and you – over. Sorry, Charlie.”
“Man,” the guy whined. “You fuckin’ cops suck nowadays. You know that?”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” James said.
“Me either,” Jake agreed. “And he’s been on the force a lot longer than I have.”
“Not that much longer, Hansen,” James grunted. How old did this kid think he was anyway? He was about to ask his jerk of a partner exactly that when he saw Jake’s grin. Little punk.
“The car’s here,” Jake said, turning the old guy around and cuffing him.
While Hansen Mirandized the suspect, James strolled over to inform the uniforms what had transpired. They were in agreement that it was the craziest thing they’d heard all week. On the other hand, next week was bound to bring something even more insane. Just give it time.
“Are we done here,” Jake asked.
“We’re done, Hansen,” James replied.
“Good, I think we deserve dinner after that.”
“Huh,” James snorted. “And here I thought I left Reyes with Andy.”
“Dude,” Jake chuckled, “I need to eat too, you know.”
“I’ve got to admit,” James said, unlocking the car doors. “You are much cheaper to feed than the cowboy. Get the hell in, Hansen.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
James flicked his eyes at his partner and sighed. “Oh shut up,” he laughed. Thank God Andy was waiting for him at home or Jake might be walking back to the station tonight.
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no subject
Date: 2016-06-26 02:49 am (UTC)I was amazed that Jay was able to reign in his sarcastic streak.
Good story. :)
no subject
Date: 2016-06-27 08:23 pm (UTC)Hah - I think he was too dumbfounded by the whole situation to find any sarcasm!
Thank you. :)
no subject
Date: 2016-06-26 05:40 am (UTC)Nicely done and a perfect use of the prompt! ;-)
no subject
Date: 2016-06-27 08:30 pm (UTC)Thank you! I thought it was rather amusing.