The New Guy

by GSister

DISCLAIMER: These Characters do not belong to me (but if they did, I'D share… probably.) That said, this story was written purely for self entertainment and no money is being made, has changed hands, or has been paid out for the contents therein. The Author wishes to thank MOG for the ATF AU, she came up with it, and graciously lets others play there. Special thanks to my Beta – Van, who made this piece so much better than it began as, and to "S", (who has threatened me with a Death by Larabee-Glare if I mention her by more than that) – it's totally her fault that I got into fan fiction in the first place. Without her encouragement (nagging), constructive criticism, and long talks on characterization, I might still be writing pathetically depressing purple poetry, and what prose I did write, would NEVER be finished… And an extra special thanks to BMP – who wrote the stories that I just had to respond to…

While this story can be read as a single story, it will make much more sense if you read BMP’s Castaway and its companion piece, Refugee. The Characters in this story that were created by BMP were used with that Author’s knowledge and permission. This story was created with the permission of BMP as a companion / sequel to "Castaway."

~Constructive Criticism will be graciously accepted

~Flames will be used to toast marshmallows

Sergeant Dave Elkins was not quite sure what to make of his new partner. He’d heard stories about the man long before he’d made Detective. Hell, the pranks Wilmington and Larabee pulled were legend in patrol, let alone the rest of the precinct. But the man he’d heard stories about, the womanizing flirt who had a penchant for cherry bombing toilets on April first – this was not his new partner.

Oh sure, the man talked a good game. He was personable, friendly even, and Dave had seen how smooth he was with the ladies. But none of it reached his eyes. It was like Captain Bryson had sucked the life out of his expression when he introduced him. Dave had heard all the rumors about Wilmington’s former partner. Some said the guy off’ed himself, and Bryson had to tell Wilmington on Dave’s first day. Not that anyone was surprised, what with all the drinking the guy had been doing. Losing your family in a mob hit would do that to a guy. Some said Larabee was fired after he went after a suspect in interrogation. Said Larabee half-killed the guy. Only Wilmington could pull him off, what with them both being ex-SEALs and all.

Then there was the rumor that said the guy just walked away from it all. Packed up and decided to become a hermit on top of some f-ing mountain somewhere. Dave didn’t know what to believe. He did know Wilmington didn’t smile a real smile for more than three months after they’d met.

He also learned rather quickly Wilmington had an investigation going on off the books. No documentation. No filed reports. Hell, he didn’t even put in for overtime, and Dave knew Buck put in more than the occasional extra evening shift working on whatever the hell it was. No, Buck Wilmington was looking for someone with his DPD resources, and he didn’t want to leave a paper trail.

Dave wasn’t sure who it was – he didn’t find a BOLO on the guy – but he was there to see Wilmington’s eyes come to life when he spotted his target. Blond, scruffy, his leather jacket falling open to reveal a body skinny enough to pass through the eye of a needle – the man was just walking down the street headed toward a block of rent controlled apartment buildings. Wilmington had parked the car and kept an eye on him, letting him pass by without comment. When the blond entered one of the apartment buildings, Wilmington stared at the address a moment, like he was trying to give the gremlins in his head time to scratch it out on the stone tablets of his memory. But he didn’t write anything down, just pulled away. From that point on, the darkness in his eyes started to lift. Not completely. Not all at once. And if the jokes still seemed to be forced from time to time, well, Dave wasn’t going to say anything. It really wasn’t his place.

He just hoped one day Wilmington would introduce him to Chris Larabee, now that he’d found him again.


Feedback to: