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asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2016-10-17 09:55 am
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2016-10-17 09:55 am
Entry tags:
A to Z Challenge Chapter 14: Nemesis
Title: A to Z Challenge Chapter 14: Nemesis
Fandom: White Pine original fiction
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,247
Summary: Travis suggests a theory, Ethan takes it in.
Author's Note: Written for the A to Z Challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
1_million_words. A challenge I'm severely behind in. *sigh*
Ethan had his files spread out on the kitchen table, making Travis wonder if this was how he’d done it before, when he’d lived alone in Minden Lake. Not wanting to dredge up bad memories, he refrained from asking that burning question. Instead, he went for something less volatile. “Can’t you take a little time off, baby?”
Looking up, Ethan frowned. “Sorry, Travis,” he said. “I thought you’d be eyeball deep in dead bodies right now and didn’t think you’d notice if I put in a little OT.”
“I don’t care that you’re working,” Travis said, pulling out a chair and sitting next to Ethan. “I just worry that you’re taking too much on.” It went without saying that, since Ethan had moved to White Pine, his caseload hadn’t been exactlyy heavy. More like nonexistent.
“Afraid I’m going to get bored when Jordan releases me to come back here?” Ethan took Travis’ hand into his and gave it a squeeze. “Not going to happen. I won’t lie and say I hate having things to do, but I like my life here with you. I’m not going to give it up to move to Garret.”
“Thrilled to hear it,” Travis said, bringing their clasped hands to his mouth for a kiss. “So, why are you putting in so much extra time on this?”
“There’s a detective returning to duty on Monday and I want everything to be as up to date as it can be,” Ethan said, waving a hand over the mess of papers. “Make his transition back into the daily grind easier.”
“And is it,” Travis asked. “Up to date, I mean?”
“Mostly,” Ethan said. “I have pretty much everything taken care of that Jordan assigned me except this one here.”
“What one’s that?” Travis leaned in closer, trying to get a better look at the writing on the folder’s tab.
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “It’s the shopper that was attacked coming out of Garret’s grocery store. Something about it doesn’t make sense and so far, I haven’t been able to figure out what.”
“Remind me of the details again,” Travis encouraged. “I’m no detective, but I’ve written enough murder mysteries that maybe I can help organize your thoughts, if nothing else.” He’d inadvertently helped in the past, so why not intentionally for once?
Shrugging, Ethan opened the file. “I guess it can’t hurt, can it? The worst that will happen is that I won’t be any farther ahead. With any luck, your brilliant, creative, oddball mind might just point me in the direction I need to go. Where do you want me to start?”
“At the beginning, of course.” Travis grinned and pulled the open file closer to them both.
Starting at the beginning, Ethan sketched out the details that he knew. Twenty-two year old Toby Cyrus was leaving Wyatt Brothers Groceries around ten o’clock on a Monday night, three weeks ago. He was jumped from behind by an unknown assailant, hit and kicked repeatedly. Due to the late hour and poor lighting in the store’s parking lot, he only had a vague description of his attacker. Tall with an average build and dark hair.
“It’s not much to go on,” Travis said. “Was the kid able to give you any additional information when you went to see him?”
Ethan shook his head. “Not really. Said the guy was taller than he was, putting the assailant at approximately six two or three. I should give Cyrus another visit on Monday. Maybe something has occurred to him during his recuperation.”
Travis picked up the file and leafed through the pages, giving each a cursory once over. He flipped one page, moved to turn to the next, and then hesitated, reading the current page a second, then third time. “Ethan, read this again and tell me if it sounds familiar.”
He took the file from Travis and read where he’d indicated. “Of course it sounds familiar. Do you have any times I’ve looked over this report?”
“No,” Travis said, pointing at the description of the assailant again. “Not the words, but the picture it’s painting. ‘He was taller than me by four or five inches and an average build. Not too big or too scrawny’,” Travis read. “Then he says his attacker is ‘dark haired with equally dark eyes, light skinned with a husky voice. When he grabbed me, he had a self-righteous smirk on his face like he was doing this for my own good’.”
“Okay, and what am I supposed to be getting out of this?” Ethan folded his hands on the table, leaning into Travis’ presence, waiting.
Travis closed the file and set it aside. Resting an arm against the edge of the table, he looked at Ethan. “That doesn’t sound like your asshole ex to you?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes wide. “Because it’s screaming it to me.”
Ethan snatched the file off the table and swatted Travis’s shoulder with it. “Look, I know Reid’s a jerk,” he said, “but he’s not an abusive jerk. What reason would he have to attack a kid outside of a grocery store?” Travis opened his mouth to say something, but Ethan stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Don’t say whatever you’re about to say. I don’t want conjecture or hurt feelings. Give me one solid reason that would explain an attack on a random young man in a parking lot.”
“This might sound like a conspiracy theory,” Travis started, drawing each word out carefully so that Ethan wouldn’t jump in and stop him again. “But maybe the kid has information Reid doesn’t want to get out. You can’t deny that your ex is one sketchy son of a bitch.”
Ethan frowned, but didn’t deny Travis’ accusation. “Okay, fine,” Ethan said, giving Travis his due. “On the off chance that this is true, what information can this kid have? What would drive Reid Farrow to get his hands dirty?”
Travis shrugged. “Dunno, but I suggest you do some digging and find out, detective.” He scooted his chair back and stood. Leaning down to kiss the top of Ethan’s head, Travis sighed. “Look, I’m probably wrong, E, but it’s something worth thinking about. There aren’t a lot of people in Garret, and that description sure could be Farrow.”
“It could also be any number of other guys in Garret, too, Travis,” Ethan said.
“I know that,” Travis said, ruffling Ethan’s already mussed hair. “But what if it isn’t someone else? What if this is the reason why your ex has been trying so hard to get you back into bed with him? It’d be the perfect distraction, don’t you think?” Travis stretched, spine popping from long hours at his keyboard. “Either way, think it over, baby. Maybe focusing on Farrow will shake something else loose in your brain and lead you to the actual culprit.”
“Where are you going,” Ethan asked, watching Travis wander out of the dining room.
“I was going to go back to work,” he said. “Unless you’d rather join me in bed?”
“Do you even need to ask,” Ethan laughed. “Come on, Murphy, let’s go snuggle while we still can.”
Slipping his arm through Ethan’s, Travis gave his husband a kiss. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said. “And we’d better get all the quiet time in while we can. Mama’s expecting us for dinner on Sunday.”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less, Travis.”
Continues here.
Fandom: White Pine original fiction
Pairing: Travis Murphy/Ethan McDowell
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,247
Summary: Travis suggests a theory, Ethan takes it in.
Author's Note: Written for the A to Z Challenge at
1_million_words. A challenge I'm severely behind in. *sigh*Ethan had his files spread out on the kitchen table, making Travis wonder if this was how he’d done it before, when he’d lived alone in Minden Lake. Not wanting to dredge up bad memories, he refrained from asking that burning question. Instead, he went for something less volatile. “Can’t you take a little time off, baby?”
Looking up, Ethan frowned. “Sorry, Travis,” he said. “I thought you’d be eyeball deep in dead bodies right now and didn’t think you’d notice if I put in a little OT.”
“I don’t care that you’re working,” Travis said, pulling out a chair and sitting next to Ethan. “I just worry that you’re taking too much on.” It went without saying that, since Ethan had moved to White Pine, his caseload hadn’t been exactlyy heavy. More like nonexistent.
“Afraid I’m going to get bored when Jordan releases me to come back here?” Ethan took Travis’ hand into his and gave it a squeeze. “Not going to happen. I won’t lie and say I hate having things to do, but I like my life here with you. I’m not going to give it up to move to Garret.”
“Thrilled to hear it,” Travis said, bringing their clasped hands to his mouth for a kiss. “So, why are you putting in so much extra time on this?”
“There’s a detective returning to duty on Monday and I want everything to be as up to date as it can be,” Ethan said, waving a hand over the mess of papers. “Make his transition back into the daily grind easier.”
“And is it,” Travis asked. “Up to date, I mean?”
“Mostly,” Ethan said. “I have pretty much everything taken care of that Jordan assigned me except this one here.”
“What one’s that?” Travis leaned in closer, trying to get a better look at the writing on the folder’s tab.
Ethan rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “It’s the shopper that was attacked coming out of Garret’s grocery store. Something about it doesn’t make sense and so far, I haven’t been able to figure out what.”
“Remind me of the details again,” Travis encouraged. “I’m no detective, but I’ve written enough murder mysteries that maybe I can help organize your thoughts, if nothing else.” He’d inadvertently helped in the past, so why not intentionally for once?
Shrugging, Ethan opened the file. “I guess it can’t hurt, can it? The worst that will happen is that I won’t be any farther ahead. With any luck, your brilliant, creative, oddball mind might just point me in the direction I need to go. Where do you want me to start?”
“At the beginning, of course.” Travis grinned and pulled the open file closer to them both.
Starting at the beginning, Ethan sketched out the details that he knew. Twenty-two year old Toby Cyrus was leaving Wyatt Brothers Groceries around ten o’clock on a Monday night, three weeks ago. He was jumped from behind by an unknown assailant, hit and kicked repeatedly. Due to the late hour and poor lighting in the store’s parking lot, he only had a vague description of his attacker. Tall with an average build and dark hair.
“It’s not much to go on,” Travis said. “Was the kid able to give you any additional information when you went to see him?”
Ethan shook his head. “Not really. Said the guy was taller than he was, putting the assailant at approximately six two or three. I should give Cyrus another visit on Monday. Maybe something has occurred to him during his recuperation.”
Travis picked up the file and leafed through the pages, giving each a cursory once over. He flipped one page, moved to turn to the next, and then hesitated, reading the current page a second, then third time. “Ethan, read this again and tell me if it sounds familiar.”
He took the file from Travis and read where he’d indicated. “Of course it sounds familiar. Do you have any times I’ve looked over this report?”
“No,” Travis said, pointing at the description of the assailant again. “Not the words, but the picture it’s painting. ‘He was taller than me by four or five inches and an average build. Not too big or too scrawny’,” Travis read. “Then he says his attacker is ‘dark haired with equally dark eyes, light skinned with a husky voice. When he grabbed me, he had a self-righteous smirk on his face like he was doing this for my own good’.”
“Okay, and what am I supposed to be getting out of this?” Ethan folded his hands on the table, leaning into Travis’ presence, waiting.
Travis closed the file and set it aside. Resting an arm against the edge of the table, he looked at Ethan. “That doesn’t sound like your asshole ex to you?” He tilted his head to the side, eyes wide. “Because it’s screaming it to me.”
Ethan snatched the file off the table and swatted Travis’s shoulder with it. “Look, I know Reid’s a jerk,” he said, “but he’s not an abusive jerk. What reason would he have to attack a kid outside of a grocery store?” Travis opened his mouth to say something, but Ethan stopped him with an outstretched hand. “Don’t say whatever you’re about to say. I don’t want conjecture or hurt feelings. Give me one solid reason that would explain an attack on a random young man in a parking lot.”
“This might sound like a conspiracy theory,” Travis started, drawing each word out carefully so that Ethan wouldn’t jump in and stop him again. “But maybe the kid has information Reid doesn’t want to get out. You can’t deny that your ex is one sketchy son of a bitch.”
Ethan frowned, but didn’t deny Travis’ accusation. “Okay, fine,” Ethan said, giving Travis his due. “On the off chance that this is true, what information can this kid have? What would drive Reid Farrow to get his hands dirty?”
Travis shrugged. “Dunno, but I suggest you do some digging and find out, detective.” He scooted his chair back and stood. Leaning down to kiss the top of Ethan’s head, Travis sighed. “Look, I’m probably wrong, E, but it’s something worth thinking about. There aren’t a lot of people in Garret, and that description sure could be Farrow.”
“It could also be any number of other guys in Garret, too, Travis,” Ethan said.
“I know that,” Travis said, ruffling Ethan’s already mussed hair. “But what if it isn’t someone else? What if this is the reason why your ex has been trying so hard to get you back into bed with him? It’d be the perfect distraction, don’t you think?” Travis stretched, spine popping from long hours at his keyboard. “Either way, think it over, baby. Maybe focusing on Farrow will shake something else loose in your brain and lead you to the actual culprit.”
“Where are you going,” Ethan asked, watching Travis wander out of the dining room.
“I was going to go back to work,” he said. “Unless you’d rather join me in bed?”
“Do you even need to ask,” Ethan laughed. “Come on, Murphy, let’s go snuggle while we still can.”
Slipping his arm through Ethan’s, Travis gave his husband a kiss. “Sounds like a plan to me,” he said. “And we’d better get all the quiet time in while we can. Mama’s expecting us for dinner on Sunday.”
“I wouldn’t have expected anything less, Travis.”
Continues here.