Fic: It's Just A Sweet Fantasy Prologue-1/7 The Magnificen Seven/Without A Trace
Title: It's Just A Sweet Fantasy Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own The Magnificent Seven or Without A Trace. Characters: Chris, Vin/Martin, Danny, Jack, Vivian, Buck, JD, Ezra, Mary. Prompts: rounds_of_kink Day Off From Work, Hating Undercover Assignment. Words: 23,261 Sequel to: Hide And Seek, Conclusion of 'Coming Undone' Series. Fandom: The Magnificent Seven/Without A Trace Pairing: Martin/Danny, Chris/Martin. Rating: Adult Warnings: Angst, Language, Sexual Content, Violence, Ensemble. Summary: At a conference in New York City, Chris goes missing. His disappearance dredges up old memories and an old case thought long solved. Author's Note: Fall - 2002. Thank you to huntersglenn for the inspiration. ______________________________________
Prologue: The Closing Shudder.
Sunday - 2:52 p.m.
Standing at the rail, Martin watched the Tug slowly maneuver the Barge against the docks. Every couple of feet it shifted, the horn would whistle. He had been watching them long enough to know it was a warning signal. Soon, the cargo would be unloaded and a new Barge take it's place.
He was distracted from his observation by a hand being placed against his lower back. Glancing over his shoulder, Martin smiled at Danny. The other man was wearing little more than a smile. "Aren't you afraid of the cold?"
"I'm not going to be out here much longer." Leaning in, Danny placed a soft kiss against Martin's neck. "Speaking of which, why are you out here? It's freezing."
"I wanted to see the boats." Facing the harbor again, Martin indicated the ships with a nod of his head. "When I was a kid, once a year, my grandfather would take us to the ship yards at Newport News. Then, he'd get each of us grandkids a shiny silver dollar to mark the occasion. I had forgotten."
Danny nodded in understanding. Coming up behind Martin, he brought them flush. "All right, so you've seen the ships. Let's go back in and finish what you started earlier."
Sighing, Martin pushed off from the rail. A quick check of his watch made him shake his head. "I'd like to, but I can't."
"Come on, Martin, what's the fun in a day off if you don't take it?" When he saw his lover about to start up, Danny raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. I know when it's a lost cause."
"I'm close to it, Danny, I can feel it." Martin let it go after that. He knew that it was Sunday, that they had been at it over week, yet he could not let it go. "They're probably dead, I realize, but that doesn't mean I have to let up."
"All right, Martin, it's your decision." Following his lover back inside the motel room, Danny closed the sliding glass door behind him. "I just hope you remember that it's not your fault. Anyone of us could have overlooked the email."
Martin didn't say anything as he picked up his dress shirt. After all, it wasn't Danny who had led them to the Bahamas on a wild goose chase.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 1: Moments Before Impact.
Monday - 11:32 a.m.
There had to be a better waste of his time. Sitting around listening to some old cuss bitch about today's youth was never Chris' idea of fun. Even if the man had a point, he was still a royal dick. He was also boring on top of that. Pretending to stretch, Chris reached across behind Buck's seat next to his to smack JD on his head.
The young man came awake with a snort. Blinking, JD forced himself to sit up in his chair. That didn't last long.
Chris glanced to Buck as they watched the younger man slip back down in his chair. He glanced to the ceiling with a shake of his head. The kid was never going to make full agent if he couldn't stay awake through one conference.
To be fair, this was the first full day of boring lectures. Chris could barely remember his own first conference. He hadn't been drunk, well, not most of the time. When he wasn't fucking Vin in to that cheap motel mattress, he had been sleeping off his hangover in a lecture audience.
Being woken by sixty people pelting him with spit wads for snoring was not one of his fondest memories. At least they had improved their accuracy for the next unfortunate sleeper.
Chris was shaken from his revery by a hand being placed on his shoulder. Looking up, he felt almost grateful to the nervous looking bellhop. "Yes?"
"Mr. Larabee, sir?" The young man quickly withdrew his hand. Clearing his throat, he colored about his collar.
"That's me." If Chris' prayers were answered, he would be called away for the rest of the lecture. No such luck, as the bellhop produced a small envelope from his jacket.
Quickly checking it over, the young man scanned the outer edge for the name. "This arrived for you by currier just a moment ago. They said it was urgent that you get it." He held it out for Chris to take.
"Thank you." Chris accepted the letter with some disappointment. If it was just another note from Travis, he was going to flying back to Denver and personally tell the old man to leave him the hell alone. He knew how to do his damn job. On second thought, he just might do it anyways.
The bellhop cleared his throat. His outstretched hand curled a little to indicate he was expecting payment.
Chris glared at him. "You relayed the message, kid, now scram." Only in hotels did they expect to be paid extra for doing their jobs. As he returned to examining the envelope, Chris heard a throat clear to his left.
Ezra waited until Chris looked up at him before shaking his head. "Mr. Larabee, I am appalled at your disgraceful behavior." Reaching in to his jacket, Ezra pulled out a money clip. He peeled off a small bill and handed it to the bellhop. "There you are, my good man."
"Thanks, sir." The bellhop tilted his hat to Ezra, then beat feet for the exit.
"Go ahead, waste your money." Chris ignored Ezra's disapproving stare. "That kid cheated the currier out of a tip so he could pocket it himself. As far as I'm concerned, he didn't do anything to warrant one."
"And that," Ezra tugged at his cuffs, "is why you'll never be a gentleman."
"It's also why I'll be able to afford to eat when I get home." To signal the conversation was over, Chris turned the envelope in his hand so he could read the label. It was a plain envelope with a hand written name. Inside was a single index card. He frowned at the sentence written on it.
"What's so interesting?" Buck tried to lean over Chris' arm to read the paper. When it was lowered to keep him from seeing, he sighed. "Come on, I'd show you."
"I'm not you." Crumpling up the card, Chris stuck it in his pants pocket. Lowering himself down in to his seat, he went back to paying attention to the retired Bureau chief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monday - 4:16 p.m.
"Are you certain it wasn't Kendrick?" Jack stared at the image with narrowed eyes. No matter how hard he tried, the blurriness never resolved itself. With a sigh, he put on his glasses. Much to his surprise, the blurriness was still there. "What's this?"
"It's the proof." Using his mouse, Martin highlighted the section of the photos along the blurring. "That is a sign of photo manipulation. See where the pattern changes? That's because it's from two different photos."
Now that it was pointed out, Jack could instantly see it. "How much of it is retouched?"
"Roughly half the photo. It's very well done, almost professional. If the lines hadn't started to blur for me, I would have never noticed it." Just speaking about it made Martin's eyes burn. Wincing, he rubbed at them to ease the ache. "Guess who just so happens to have a background in computers and graphic arts?"
Scowling, Jack faced Martin. "He has an air tight alibi for the time frame of their disappearance."
"He didn't have to do it. As you know, this was mailed to every one of their investors two days before they disappeared." Sitting back, Martin spun his chair around until he was staring back at his boss. He picked up his pencil to give his fingers something to do. "Since we weren't able to locate the source, we had no proof who sent it."
"This gives someone else motive, but that doesn't give us the actual perp. All this implicates is Kendrick's complicity." This made Jack sigh. Another option only clouded up the water.
"Yes, he knew how the investors would react, so I think he set the Darvishs up. I think we can do the same thing to catch the kidnappers and find the Darvishs." It was time for Martin to smirk. It always made him feel good to outsmart the perps. "I don't think the perp's going to be too happy to learn they were made a fool. They might actually want to help nail the son of a bitch."
Nodding, Jack pushed off the edge of Martin's desk. "All right, I'll send out teams to each of the investors. Hopefully your plan will work."
Martin started to stand up, his knees popping as he went.
"Where do you think you're going?" His cellphone already out, Jack put a hand over it to muffle their conversation. "The only place I want to see you heading is home. We can handle the rest from here."
This made Martin scowl. "I can handle it, Jack."
Jack just shook his head. He wasn't having any of it. "No, you won't. You've been working on this case for the last ten days straight. I don't want to see you in until Thursday at the earliest."
"This is my case!" Martin knew he was fighting a losing battle. He would never win against Jack. Still, he had to try. "I've given you the first real big break, let me at least go in for the ride along."
"The answer's no. I'll have Vivian see you home." When the line was picked up on his cell, Jack quickly uncovered it. "We've got a lead." Jack headed for the hallway as he spoke.
A yawn suddenly overcame Martin. Unable to fight it, he reached up to cover his mouth. By the time he could see again, Jack was already gone. Much to his surprise, he didn't really care that he was left behind. He had to admit he was too damn tired.
Reluctantly, he sat back down. He had a few minutes before Viv would be up to collect him. So, he saved his work to a folder and printed off copies. That done, he logged off the terminal and shut it down.
A full day to himself. He wondered what he would do. Probably Danny.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Monday - 8:41 p.m.
"Hello?" The phone against his ear, Martin opened his eyes to stare at the bedside clock. The numbers were fuzzy, so he had to blink several times to clear his vision.
"Hey there." Danny's voice sounded sore from constant yelling. "You sound like you've been sleeping."
Rubbing his eyes, Martin nodded. Only too late did he realize that Danny couldn't see it. "Yeah, you woke me."
"Then my canceling tonight won't be a big deal." The comment came out almost as a musing. Danny seemed more relieved than anything else. "I am hoping to get back in to the city by midnight."
"It's that bad?" Martin started to drift off. His eyes drooping shut, he leaned on one arm.
Danny snorted. "Worse." Clearing his throat made the phone crackle. "We found the Darvishs alive, thankfully, but they're in bad shape."
"That's good, I think." It was as far as Martin could come up with. He was certain there was supposed to be more inferred there, but his brain just wasn't supplying what. Then something else occurred to him. "Yeah, it's okay that you're canceling. I think Jack's right about me needing sleep." Martin finished speaking with a yawn.
Snickering, Danny exhaled in to the receiver. "Sounds like." There was a pause when Danny found nothing else to say. "Look, you want to hook up tomorrow? Take our usual lunch hour?"
"Sounds great. See you then." Martin blinked. Shaking his head, he realized he had fallen asleep. "You still there?"
"Yeah. Did you fall asleep?" At Martin's sigh, Danny began to chuckle. "You get some sleep, Fitzy. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah. Okay. Night." After that, Martin barely had the cognitive capability to hang up the phone. He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 12:45 a.m.
Grimacing as he stepped over another pile of something offal, Ezra tugged his coat tighter about him. The freezing air coming in off the water felt like it went through his coat's fur lining. As much as he loved the look of his synthetics, he would have gladly given anything for the real thing.
There was no point in risking the real furs here, though. With all the readily available paint and people willing to use it, thousands of dollars in comfort was too precious.
Damn protesters!
Aside from bemoaning over fashion conscious individuals, there was another point to him being at the water front. He glanced over his shoulder. His eyes stung in the freezing wind making it hard to see. Still, he clearly made out the black sedan rolling his way.
It was almost a relief to see it. He knew they would never let him inside, that was not how they did business. Hell, if he didn't owe them a favor, he wouldn't even be here. There were much more pleasant places that offered him succor.
Eventually, the sedan rolled to a stop beside him. The back window lowered only enough to provide room for a voice to be clearly heard. "You are prompt."
"Yes. I quite admire your tactics of persuasion." Ezra cracked his knuckles to restore some feeling his fingers. "Let us skip formalities. What situation has put a bee in your bonnet this time?"
"Someone's working against the common good. A case in which we are both intimately involved has been placed at risk." Her voice held a pleasant tone of amusement. It was as if the mere thought was laughable to her. "I find it common courtesy to inform you. Should you feel compelled to do the same, I would, of course, be grateful."
This made Ezra grimace. There could be only one thing that would get her down here to this place. "There has been contact made. I do not believe it to be the other, though."
"I did not believe so either." She sighed loud enough to be heard over the roaring of a passing boat engine. "Keep an eye out. It may become necessary to take more effective measures."
"I understand." Ezra shivered, the biting wind no longer a concern. "How long do I have before measures are taken?"
"It is already too late." Rolling up her window, she smiled at him. A half second later her car drove away.
Watching her go, Ezra wondered where the fallout would be felt. Who had brought this down upon them?
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 7:20 a.m.
His head was hurting. Martin wasn't sure what time it was or even what had woken him. All he knew was that he had been asleep one moment and awake the next. Blinking, he frowned as he tried to place where he was. The light was different and it took him a while to realize he was seeing it from the other side.
It was early morning.
He was usually gone by seven. He frowned again as he sat up. The phone rang to get his attention. Reaching out automatically, he grasped the handset. Picking it up, he brought it to his ear. "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Whiskers." The voice was young, unfamiliar.
Martin knew the name. It took him a moment to recall from where. Apparently sleeping through the night made his memory shot. "What do you want?"
"The Butchershop has a survey regarding our customer service of your old order." The man was close to laughing on the other end. "When would be a good time to come in and fill out the questionair?"
Swallowing, Martin glanced over at the clock. "I'll be in soon."
"That would be greatly appreciated." The line went dead.
A lead weight settled in Martin's gut. Something must have happened, but nothing too serious or they would have been beating down his door. Sighing, he stood up. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he wandered how long it would take to get there with this morning's traffic.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 8:28 a.m.
Brush in hand, Chris pulled open his door. When he caught sight of the bellhop from the day before, he mentally sighed. "You got it?"
The young man noticed Chris' expression and swallowed. Holding up a shaking hand, he held out a large envelope to Chris. "Here."
"Thanks." Chris took the envelope and shook his head. "Tell them next time to have it brought to my door. I don't like having to get out of a shower and answer the phone just to be told a package was being delivered." Some people had absolutely no common sense. He tossed the kid a wadded up five and closed the door.
Startled, the teen barely had time to catch it before the door was shut in his face.
Pulling the towel off his shoulder, Chris used it to wipe at his face. There was a bit of foam running down his forehead. Why he had ever let Buck talk him in to using that shit was beyond him. After the conference was over, he was throwing the bottle out and shooting Buck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 8:35 a.m.
His fists aching, Chris felt his jaw clenched. He couldn't believe it. Those lying mother fuckers! How in the hell could this have happened? As he stepped on the elevator, he slapped the lobby button.
The weight of his gun in his holster served to steady him. It gave him a small measure of peace knowing it was within reach. He might have to use it by the day's end. There were so many people he wanted to shoot at the moment.
He glanced up at the floor indicator. If that god damned thing didn't hurry up, it would be the first victim. Then, as if it could read his thoughts, it dinged and the doors flew open.
Chris stepped off the elevator car and stormed his way through a waiting crowd. He shoulder a stuffy looking broad out of his way. He ignored the more than few insults whispered in his wake. If the idiots were going to block the fucking path, they got what they deserved.
Just as well, shooting them would only slow him down!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 10:00 a.m.
Martin could hear them whispering in the other room. They thought they were being so discreet, but he knew better. Bunch of ignorant, incompetent assholes is what they were. Whoever had taken command in the last three years had certainly let the place go.
Then again, that was true of most law enforcement officers he met recently. No one had the will to be in charge any more. Everyone wanted to do their own thing and let someone else handle the hard stuff. May be being around Jack had spoiled him, but he felt someone had a duty to uphold their oath.
The phone in his hand beeped. Martin stared at the receiver. It had actually beeped. This could only mean one thing. Growling, he glared at the keypad as if it would suddenly burst in to flames. "Danny, you know who this is. Look, something came up. It's starting to look like I won't be able to make our meeting this afternoon."
"Hey! You're not authorized to be using that phone!" Her voice grated even from across the room.
Martin wanted to throw the phone at her. It was the crazy woman who seemed to think that the world revolved around her ass just because she had the key to the supply closet. If there was a medal for biggest self absorbed asshole in the world, she was it three years running.
Grinding his teeth, Martin ignored her. "If you're free for dinner, call my cell and leave a message. You know what a cell phone is. It's that thing you're supposed to leave on in case someone calls you."
"I said you're not authorized to use that phone!" She was closer this time. "Who are you calling? If you've compromised this office..."
"Listen, ma'am, you can take your heart attack else where. I'm just making a phone call. If you hadn't made me leave mine at the front desk, I wouldn't have to use it." It was the wrong thing to say. Martin saw her switch from dictator to bitch in the span of a heart beat.
Her eyes narrowed as she opened her mouth. "Security!"
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 11:47 a.m.
"Hey, wait a minute!" Reaching in to his pocket, Chris pulled out a twenty. As he pushed up from the booth, he threw it on the table. He knew it was outrageously more than what his meal was priced, including tip, but he didn't care. "I'm not through with you, lady!"
With a roll of her eyes, she slung her bag higher up her shoulder. This had been a serious mistake. She made it to the door before he caught up.
It didn't take long for Chris to catch her. She knew the truth and that was all that he needed. He grabbed her arm to prevent her from getting away. "I am talking to you."
"Yeah, well, I'm not talking to you." She jerked her arm out of his grip. Sending him a death glare, she pushed the front door open. It was too much to hope that he would take the hint.
Chris followed her out on to the street. The foot traffic didn't bother him, he could still see her through the crowd. There was no way in hell this bitch was getting away from him. "You're going to talk to me whether you want to or not!"
~~~~~~~~~~~
Tuesday - 12:39 p.m.
Leaning back in his chair, Danny tapped the tip of a pencil against his knee. "Hey, Ricky. You remember that time you and I went..." He smirked as a long suffering sigh came over the line.
"What do you want, pendejo?" The other man was in no mood to hear from Danny, that much was obvious.
Still, Danny pressed on undaunted. "Can't an old friend call up and chat about old times?" His smirk at the phone was familiar to the man on the other end. Danny knew he didn't even have to be in the same room to know his reaction.
"I told you, I don't do that any more." His voice was muffled on the last two words before being cut off completely. The line was silent for a second before Ricky came back. "Look, my boss is coming back any second."
"Then get me two tickets for tomorrow night's exhibition." Danny rotated his pencil between his fingers. "They're not the Mets, but hey, this guy doesn't care so long as it's live. All it takes is the bright lights and the big crowd and he's all over me."
Ricky growled in to the phone. "Don't talk to me about that shit, man. You know I don't go for your sluts."
"I know, you're a happily married man. It's not my fault you knocked up the first girl you slept with. Not that Lonnie's a bad girl, or anything." Danny could almost feel his old friend's glare over the phone. "What say you? Got any extra tickets left over?"
"I got four, been holding them for some gringo in Queens. He's not come up with the money. You have it, you puta loving freak, they are yours." Ricky muffled the phone again. "I'll hold them only until five, then they have to go back in to the system as last minute deals."
"Thanks! I'll be over with the money between two and three." Snickering, Danny reached over and hit the disconnect button before Ricky could reply. Why spoil the man's fun before he could enjoy it in person?
He released the button and waited for the dial tone. Once he had it, Danny began to enter the phone number by heart. The first ring came shortly after he pressed the last number. Four rings later, Danny was frowning as he was switched over to voice mail.
"Hi, you've reached Martin Fitzgerald's cell. I am not answering because I am obviously busy. Leave your message after the beep, I'll get back to you. Promise."
At the beep, Danny cleared his throat. "Listen, Martin, I'm not going to be able to make it for lunch. I've got to pick up a new cell and a few other things. Some asshole stole mine last night. So how about dinner? I've got a surprise for you." Glancing up at the clock, he sighed. It would be a bit yet before he could get over there.
TBC
EDITED: Forgot to include part 1 in the daily postings, so i added it here and shortened the daily postings.