don't own it, just love it, trying to advertise free for Warner Brothers, Top Cow and TNT.
In Need of a Confessor
by medea42
Jake clutched his FBI badge between his hands as he gazed into the computer. No matter how he scryed the screensaver, he could not divine the correct answer. He could tell Sara, now, the he was a fed -- but how would that play against the White Bulls scenario? While he certainly had enough evidence to send Dante to trial, he did not gather enough to entirely convict the bastard, even with the taped confession.
When he left his apartment that morning, all he'd thought of was spending the day observing Dante's operation style, and tacitly warning Pez his vendetta ran deeper than she knew. Instead, the black-clad freak goaded him so badly that he nearly blew his own cover. Taking a swing at a suspect - he really did act like a damn rookie. Irons must have researched him after his visit to cover Sara's ass. One more piece of himself gone, one less part of himself he could protect Sara with when the shit inevitably hit the fan. Problem was, Pez didn't always listen real well, especially with her well-supported belief that Jake was just her baby-cop in training.
Compounding his dilemma, Jake knew Dante wasn't going to wait forever for a commitment. Jake desperately wanted a way to avoid dragging Sara into the mess, but it looked like the captain already knew she was his weak spot, and the best way to test his loyalty. He was right. Though she'd work perfectly as bait that Dante wanted to bite -- the man was more demanding than the toothiest barracuda he'd ever encountered.
Dante strolled in, "So what's your partner doing holding hands with that dirtbag?"
It was enough of a fire under the ass for Jake to pop back into the interrogation room. He could not even place a meaning on what he saw.
Sara and Ian were gazing into each others' eyes, like two lions about to engage in combat. Ian held her hand, as they spoke quietly, almost like lovers. Jake stopped dead. His first urge was to march back into that room and make sure his punch registered on Nottingham -- the guy screwed with him at the Rialto, and probably had a hand in some of the more recent holes in his investigation. That wasn't why he wanted to punch him, though.
He wanted to leave a huge bruise across Notthingham's pretty face for touching Sara.
That would NOT help him maintain his cover.
Jake turned around and walked out; his thoughts in that moment clarified his decision for him.
He headed straight for the captain's office.
"I'm in," he told Dante.
In Need of a Confessor
by medea42
Jake clutched his FBI badge between his hands as he gazed into the computer. No matter how he scryed the screensaver, he could not divine the correct answer. He could tell Sara, now, the he was a fed -- but how would that play against the White Bulls scenario? While he certainly had enough evidence to send Dante to trial, he did not gather enough to entirely convict the bastard, even with the taped confession.
When he left his apartment that morning, all he'd thought of was spending the day observing Dante's operation style, and tacitly warning Pez his vendetta ran deeper than she knew. Instead, the black-clad freak goaded him so badly that he nearly blew his own cover. Taking a swing at a suspect - he really did act like a damn rookie. Irons must have researched him after his visit to cover Sara's ass. One more piece of himself gone, one less part of himself he could protect Sara with when the shit inevitably hit the fan. Problem was, Pez didn't always listen real well, especially with her well-supported belief that Jake was just her baby-cop in training.
Compounding his dilemma, Jake knew Dante wasn't going to wait forever for a commitment. Jake desperately wanted a way to avoid dragging Sara into the mess, but it looked like the captain already knew she was his weak spot, and the best way to test his loyalty. He was right. Though she'd work perfectly as bait that Dante wanted to bite -- the man was more demanding than the toothiest barracuda he'd ever encountered.
Dante strolled in, "So what's your partner doing holding hands with that dirtbag?"
It was enough of a fire under the ass for Jake to pop back into the interrogation room. He could not even place a meaning on what he saw.
Sara and Ian were gazing into each others' eyes, like two lions about to engage in combat. Ian held her hand, as they spoke quietly, almost like lovers. Jake stopped dead. His first urge was to march back into that room and make sure his punch registered on Nottingham -- the guy screwed with him at the Rialto, and probably had a hand in some of the more recent holes in his investigation. That wasn't why he wanted to punch him, though.
He wanted to leave a huge bruise across Notthingham's pretty face for touching Sara.
That would NOT help him maintain his cover.
Jake turned around and walked out; his thoughts in that moment clarified his decision for him.
He headed straight for the captain's office.
"I'm in," he told Dante.