![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
asphaltcowgrrlTitle: One Ride in Vegas Chapter 3
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,331
Summary: Zayne and James are on the job. Now, where do they start?
Author’s Note: I’ve been relatively useless this past month. I can’t finish anything and can’t seem to post what I do finish. Ugh. Anyway… enjoy chapter 3 while I endeavor to finish this freaking mess of a story. Written for the September Bingo challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words. This chapter covers the prompt holding on.
It’d been some time since he’d last tried to back a trailer into anything. Sighing, Zayne checked the mirror on this ancient Ford and maneuvered the little mobile residence into the spot that had been reserved for him. There was a time when he thought something couldn’t get more rickety than his own broke down F-150, but this thing posing as a truck that narcotics had given him beat Ol’ Blue hands down.
He scrubbed a hand across the growing stubble on his chin. Rosewood had suggested he not shave, trashing up his image a bit. The idea was amusing to Reyes considering his reputation was mostly trash anyway. Glancing at his watch, he saw he still had an hour before he was due to meet with the narco. It was funny, he often wished he had the time to kick back and not do anything during the week but, now that he had that option, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
Because he was alone.
Shaking off the disturbing thought, Zayne climbed out of the truck and unhitched the Airstream from the truck. Parking the Ford in the nearest available spot, he strolled back over to what was to be his home for the next ten days. Or, until narcotics managed to nab their guy, whichever came first.
The trailer itself wasn’t old. The dealer that had been using it to store his inventory had taken good care of it. Better care than whoever had owned the truck he’d just gotten out of anyway. From where Zayne stood, the Airstream looked like a little alien spacecraft with its large, tinted windows and aluminum body. Inside there was a small kitchen, a sleeping area, and combination toilet and shower. Making a face at the idea of showering in the toilet, Zayne dropped onto the nearest empty space. The sleeping area was going to be a bit cramped, but he’d make do. He’d slept in worse that was for sure.
Snapping a couple pictures, he sent a quick text to Zeklos, wishing he could call. Unable to risk it, he settled for the short message.
See, it has everything the modern gypsy could ever want.
Zek’s return text made Zayne laugh.
It’s not as pretty as my father’s vardo, but much more modern. No horses needed.
Smiling at Zeklos’ practicality, he responded teasingly.
You’ll have to show me a picture when I get home, baby.
Andrej’s response startled him.
Come home with me this spring and I’ll show you in person. She is lovely. My brother has taken good care of her.
Not half as lovely as you, Zayne thought, heart pounding. God, Zek wanted him to fly to Europe with him? That was – well, it was something.
We’ll have to talk about that, baby.
A knock on the door of his Airstream caused Zayne to look up.
James is here, I’ll talk to you later.
He waited for the inevitable ‘be safe’ reply before getting up to let the narco inside. Tired of being alone, even the sight of the man that created this mess made him relax. “It’s about damn time, Rosewood.”
Pushing past Reyes, James let himself into the trailer. “Nice little tin can you’ve got yourself.”
“Compliments of the LVMPD impound lot,” he laughed. “Will they sell this to me when we’re done? I’m thinking I might need a place to live once Zek kicks my ass out.”
The smile disappeared from James’ face. “He won’t do that, as long as you come back in one piece. Even if you don’t, I doubt he’d make you leave. Me, on the other hand…”
“Eh, if he doesn’t give my ass the boot, he’s not going to give you it either,” Zayne said, flopping onto the nearest bench. “If anyone has a reason to get kicked to the curb by Zek, it’s me. I’ve had more years to piss him off than you have.”
“Good point,” James agreed, settling onto the bench beside Reyes. “Ready to go over your cover story?”
Nodding, Zayne prepared himself for whatever was to come. He knew that Metro had to have pulled some serious strings to even get him here. The National Finals were for top money grossers only, there’s not a chance an unknown like him would even be a part of the rodeo otherwise. But from what Rosewood was saying, he wasn’t expected to participate, just hang around on the outskirts, looking like the bum he was.
“Any questions,” James asked, leaning back into the bench seat.
“Where will you be?” He needed to know where his backup was going to be in case something went south. “And what about Hansen?”
James frowned. “My captain agreed with your suggestion I act as a rodeo clown. It’ll give us a reason to be seen together, even if we have to pass ourselves off as two washed up wannabe cowboys. No offense,” he added at the last second, grimacing. “So, I’ll be around, scouting possible suspects. When I find one, we’ll send you in to do your thing.”
His thing being a hobbled, bum of an addict. The story was that he’d been thrown and broken a leg, leaving him in severe pain ever since. Insurance for professional cowboys was astronomical, so no one would question why his leg hadn’t ever been properly treated. Hell, half of them had probably been in a similar situation at some point. He hated this part of the role, but it was a must if he were to get the intel that Rosewood needed. “And your partner,” Zayne asked again.
“Jake’s been assigned to something else,” the redhead grumbled, obviously upset at not having Jake’s backup. “Neither of us is very happy about it either. I don’t distrust any of the guys assigned to this case but –“
“But you trust no one more than you trust your partner,” Reyes finished, understanding completely. Even those days when he knew Zek wanted to dump him where they’d never find his body, Zayne knew that Andrej wouldn’t ever betray him.
“Other than you,” James said, looking away.
Zayne almost heard the clicking as the pieces of this bizarre puzzle fit themselves together. “You knew Jake had been reassigned, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said, a sheepish smile crossing his face. “Our captain told us the same day I came asking for your help. Are you mad?”
“Hell no,” Zayne laughed, clapping James on the back. “But you should have said as much. Zek wouldn’t have been nearly as pissed off if he’d known.” He wasn’t entirely positive that was true, but Zayne was sure that their mutual boyfriend wouldn’t have been nearly as angry. Zeklos could be weird that way sometimes.
“Maybe,” James sighed. “There’s an after party tonight at Stoney’s as soon as the last event ends, sometime around ten o’clock. I’ll meet you there.” Standing, the redhead looked down at Zayne. “As hard as it is, we need to put Andy out of our minds until we’ve got this wrapped up. He’ll be fine, I asked Jake to check in with him when he can.”
“Thanks,” Zayne said, forcing himself to his feet. “I know he can take care of himself but if you’d seen him last night…” He shook his head, telling himself not to dwell on it right now. “Besides, the minute Trish and Hil discover he’s on his own for a few days, he won’t have time to be angry with either of us. He’ll be too busy fending off those meddling women.”
James wrapped him in a tight hug, thumping the flat of his hand hard against Reyes’ back. “It’s going to take both of us to help him recover from that,” he teased. Releasing Zayne, he gave the Texan a long, hard look. “Ten o’clock, cowboy. Be ready to turn on the charm.”
Zayne held the door while the ginger departed. “Like I have the ability to turn off the charm, red.”
Story continues here.
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,331
Summary: Zayne and James are on the job. Now, where do they start?
Author’s Note: I’ve been relatively useless this past month. I can’t finish anything and can’t seem to post what I do finish. Ugh. Anyway… enjoy chapter 3 while I endeavor to finish this freaking mess of a story. Written for the September Bingo challenge at
1_million_words. This chapter covers the prompt holding on.It’d been some time since he’d last tried to back a trailer into anything. Sighing, Zayne checked the mirror on this ancient Ford and maneuvered the little mobile residence into the spot that had been reserved for him. There was a time when he thought something couldn’t get more rickety than his own broke down F-150, but this thing posing as a truck that narcotics had given him beat Ol’ Blue hands down.
He scrubbed a hand across the growing stubble on his chin. Rosewood had suggested he not shave, trashing up his image a bit. The idea was amusing to Reyes considering his reputation was mostly trash anyway. Glancing at his watch, he saw he still had an hour before he was due to meet with the narco. It was funny, he often wished he had the time to kick back and not do anything during the week but, now that he had that option, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
Because he was alone.
Shaking off the disturbing thought, Zayne climbed out of the truck and unhitched the Airstream from the truck. Parking the Ford in the nearest available spot, he strolled back over to what was to be his home for the next ten days. Or, until narcotics managed to nab their guy, whichever came first.
The trailer itself wasn’t old. The dealer that had been using it to store his inventory had taken good care of it. Better care than whoever had owned the truck he’d just gotten out of anyway. From where Zayne stood, the Airstream looked like a little alien spacecraft with its large, tinted windows and aluminum body. Inside there was a small kitchen, a sleeping area, and combination toilet and shower. Making a face at the idea of showering in the toilet, Zayne dropped onto the nearest empty space. The sleeping area was going to be a bit cramped, but he’d make do. He’d slept in worse that was for sure.
Snapping a couple pictures, he sent a quick text to Zeklos, wishing he could call. Unable to risk it, he settled for the short message.
See, it has everything the modern gypsy could ever want.
Zek’s return text made Zayne laugh.
It’s not as pretty as my father’s vardo, but much more modern. No horses needed.
Smiling at Zeklos’ practicality, he responded teasingly.
You’ll have to show me a picture when I get home, baby.
Andrej’s response startled him.
Come home with me this spring and I’ll show you in person. She is lovely. My brother has taken good care of her.
Not half as lovely as you, Zayne thought, heart pounding. God, Zek wanted him to fly to Europe with him? That was – well, it was something.
We’ll have to talk about that, baby.
A knock on the door of his Airstream caused Zayne to look up.
James is here, I’ll talk to you later.
He waited for the inevitable ‘be safe’ reply before getting up to let the narco inside. Tired of being alone, even the sight of the man that created this mess made him relax. “It’s about damn time, Rosewood.”
Pushing past Reyes, James let himself into the trailer. “Nice little tin can you’ve got yourself.”
“Compliments of the LVMPD impound lot,” he laughed. “Will they sell this to me when we’re done? I’m thinking I might need a place to live once Zek kicks my ass out.”
The smile disappeared from James’ face. “He won’t do that, as long as you come back in one piece. Even if you don’t, I doubt he’d make you leave. Me, on the other hand…”
“Eh, if he doesn’t give my ass the boot, he’s not going to give you it either,” Zayne said, flopping onto the nearest bench. “If anyone has a reason to get kicked to the curb by Zek, it’s me. I’ve had more years to piss him off than you have.”
“Good point,” James agreed, settling onto the bench beside Reyes. “Ready to go over your cover story?”
Nodding, Zayne prepared himself for whatever was to come. He knew that Metro had to have pulled some serious strings to even get him here. The National Finals were for top money grossers only, there’s not a chance an unknown like him would even be a part of the rodeo otherwise. But from what Rosewood was saying, he wasn’t expected to participate, just hang around on the outskirts, looking like the bum he was.
“Any questions,” James asked, leaning back into the bench seat.
“Where will you be?” He needed to know where his backup was going to be in case something went south. “And what about Hansen?”
James frowned. “My captain agreed with your suggestion I act as a rodeo clown. It’ll give us a reason to be seen together, even if we have to pass ourselves off as two washed up wannabe cowboys. No offense,” he added at the last second, grimacing. “So, I’ll be around, scouting possible suspects. When I find one, we’ll send you in to do your thing.”
His thing being a hobbled, bum of an addict. The story was that he’d been thrown and broken a leg, leaving him in severe pain ever since. Insurance for professional cowboys was astronomical, so no one would question why his leg hadn’t ever been properly treated. Hell, half of them had probably been in a similar situation at some point. He hated this part of the role, but it was a must if he were to get the intel that Rosewood needed. “And your partner,” Zayne asked again.
“Jake’s been assigned to something else,” the redhead grumbled, obviously upset at not having Jake’s backup. “Neither of us is very happy about it either. I don’t distrust any of the guys assigned to this case but –“
“But you trust no one more than you trust your partner,” Reyes finished, understanding completely. Even those days when he knew Zek wanted to dump him where they’d never find his body, Zayne knew that Andrej wouldn’t ever betray him.
“Other than you,” James said, looking away.
Zayne almost heard the clicking as the pieces of this bizarre puzzle fit themselves together. “You knew Jake had been reassigned, didn’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said, a sheepish smile crossing his face. “Our captain told us the same day I came asking for your help. Are you mad?”
“Hell no,” Zayne laughed, clapping James on the back. “But you should have said as much. Zek wouldn’t have been nearly as pissed off if he’d known.” He wasn’t entirely positive that was true, but Zayne was sure that their mutual boyfriend wouldn’t have been nearly as angry. Zeklos could be weird that way sometimes.
“Maybe,” James sighed. “There’s an after party tonight at Stoney’s as soon as the last event ends, sometime around ten o’clock. I’ll meet you there.” Standing, the redhead looked down at Zayne. “As hard as it is, we need to put Andy out of our minds until we’ve got this wrapped up. He’ll be fine, I asked Jake to check in with him when he can.”
“Thanks,” Zayne said, forcing himself to his feet. “I know he can take care of himself but if you’d seen him last night…” He shook his head, telling himself not to dwell on it right now. “Besides, the minute Trish and Hil discover he’s on his own for a few days, he won’t have time to be angry with either of us. He’ll be too busy fending off those meddling women.”
James wrapped him in a tight hug, thumping the flat of his hand hard against Reyes’ back. “It’s going to take both of us to help him recover from that,” he teased. Releasing Zayne, he gave the Texan a long, hard look. “Ten o’clock, cowboy. Be ready to turn on the charm.”
Zayne held the door while the ginger departed. “Like I have the ability to turn off the charm, red.”
Story continues here.
