Favourite Explosion (Sequel to PAPOM)

Alan Ashby

It was back to work. I had had a glorious weekend with Kellin, we lazed around, playing boardgames and cleaning together. Mostly, just cuddling on the couch in silence.

I was (needless to say) reluctant to go to work Monday morning. Especially as I wake up and watch as Kellin slips my sweatshirt on over his naked body. I got up and pushed him on the bed, earning a giggle as I fell on top of him. I pressed my lips to his, sending a thrill down my spine. He smiled into the kiss, his arms wrapping around my neck. He held me there for a minute, before separating our lips and leaning our foreheads together.

"I love you," he whispered. I smiled and closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling.

"I love you, too," I told him, pecking his lips once more before pulling out of his grasp. "Okay, I need to go before your sexy ass becomes sexier." I winked at him, and Kellin blushed. I swear I heard him squeal, too. He's so cute. I'm so in love, it's insane.

I poured myself some coffee, still refusing to let Kellin have any. He's hyperactive enough as is. I grabbed my briefcase, one last kiss goodbye and I was gone.

"Hey, Jaime," I said quietly, trying to act as friendly as I could.

"Hey, Vic! We have someone in the holding cells to get a statement from." I groaned, these were so boring.

"Confession?"

"Probably the best bet," he replied. I rolled my eyes and made my way to the back of the department and down the few stairs to the holding cells.

After almost two hours of pushing and yelling and smacking my hand down, we finally got a signed confession. I like interrogations, sure, but they got tedious on days where I wanted to be anywhere that wasn't here. We made our way back up and finilaized our reports. I went over to hand it to the unit Chief when something caught my eye, or someone I guess, being hauled in in handcuffs, screaming. Someone from another life.

"Looks good," Barham told me, with a single nod.

"Yeah, uh, is that Alan Ashby?"

"It is, why?"

"I know him." Barham looked at me quizzically for a minute before pulling me inside his office.

"Alan Ashby, he's from Albany."

"Yeah, I know him from my Worsnop case."

"Right. He was...he was suspected for drug smuggling."

"Okay," I said, confused at why he was being so delicate.

"And now we have circumstantial proof that he's the supplier for the brothers."

"No." My mind couldn't fathom this. How was that case still going on? And how was Alan at all involved? "But the guy at the music store he's-"

"Vic...Alan is the guy at the music store," Barham told me delicately. Did he think I would snap over this? Really?

"No but..." I trailed off. I remembered that I hadn't paid too much attention that day. I was mostly listening. Apparently I just hadn't recognized his voice when I had truly met Alan later on. "What the hell is he doing in Socal?"

"Apparently his business grew," Chief answers simply. Did he know Kellin moved here? Are they still in contact?

"I'm going to go talk to him."

"Vic, no. It's Craig's case, and besides, you might stir things up."

"I'm talking to him." I wouldn't take no as an answer.

"Vic, no." I walked out. I walked away. I walked to Alan.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "You're that guy!" I raised an eyebrow. "The one that was with Kellin!" He started chuckling and then went completely stoic. "The one that punched me in the fucking face."