discontinued - Smooth Criminal

Chapter 3

"I, um, crave a boon!"

Lance snapped to attention. Processing the words that just came out of Keith's mouth, his expression contorted into one of annoyance and anger. His eyes blazed as he pursed his lips, looking Keith dead in the eye. Alarm bells in his head began to blare, telling Lance - warning him not to trust him.

"What boon?" he spat maliciously. He didn't trust Keith, and Lance had a reputation for his instinct. His gut feeling was usually correct - an unwritten rule in the 99th precinct was to trust Lance's gut. It had gotten many officers out of some truly awful situations, but it was one of Lance's finer qualities that he didn't brag about, keeping quiet and reserved whenever the subject was brought up. It wasn't something that Lance would talk about, unlike his undeniable prowess with a gun, but would rather utilise and leave it a mystery as to how he acquired such a skill.

"I can help you. You got any big drug cases? I probably know the suspects. Half my sentence, and I can help you take them down." Keith's tone was flat and tired, as if he couldn't care less about what happened to him.

"Uh, no way! I'm not trusting a criminal with my cases, let alone you, Kogane!" Lance pouted. Other officers suddenly burst into the room, beginning to argue with him. He argued back, defending the fact that no, he was not trusting Keith with a case of this importance. The shouting was getting loud and animated, bouncing off the cold stone walls. It reminded Lance of the petty arguments he would have with his family, at least eleven of them arguing over what film to watch; or who would sit where in the car. It made him feel warm, but that cold, sinking feeling still lingered that his family were an ocean away - untouchable. It hurt, but it was comforting to know that they were there, in his heart.

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"Uh, no way! I'm not trusting a criminal with my cases, let alone you, Kogane!" Keith recoiled at the venom dripping from Lance's poisonous tone. Previous conversations with Rolo came crashing back into Keith's memory like a tidal wave, conversations that would haunt him as he lived out the rest of his meaningless existence, knowing that Lance, his one true love, would never love him back.

"And if you think that you'll get to live out this little love story you seem to have thought out for yourselves, think again. He'll never love someone as broken as you, especially 'cause you're a criminal."

He became so absorbed in this nightmare, imagining the inevitable, that he didn't hear other officers enter the room and begin to argue with Lance. The thoughts had overtaken all his senses; he stared despondently at his shaking hands with wide eyes.

Maybe it is just a stupid crush. Or a weird manifestation of Stockholm Syndrome, I dunno, Keith mused gloomily. The other officers entering the room failed to grab his attention, and he didn't notice the ascending volume of said officers.

"Mr. Kogane." Suddenly Keith snapped to attention, puzzled by the new-found formality that Lance - oh, wait, this wasn't Lance. It was another man, taller, with sleek black hair; apart from one tuft at the front that was shockingly white. He had narrow, but kind, dark eyes, despite his mouth being pressed in a long, straight line. His right arm had also been replaced with a prosthetic, a quality of this man that fascinated Keith. It may have had something to do with his hair, or the jagged scar that stretched across his nose. Lance continued to grumble behind his back, folding his arms angrily across his chest.

"Lance told me that you made an offer. That you had agreed to help. I've consulted Allura, the police captain, and she agrees with me that your 'offer' could be beneficial to our cause. We've already scheduled a stake out for Lance in the following weeks, where he will be watching over a suspected gang that, if we manage to get enough evidence, we will be targeting. We want you to join Lance, as we feel like your involvement in this case will result in some great consequences."

Keith shifted in his seat, not making eye contact with the officer but studying Lance's movements carefully. He held back a snort as Lance's mouth dropped open; it was obvious that he had not been consulted with the other's decision.

"What the hell, Shiro?! We cannot trust this guy, I'm telling you!" Lance stepped around Shiro to look him directly in the eye, standing on his toes slightly to elevate himself to his height.

"Lance, can you be quiet? Please? This plan is going ahead, you're gonna have to deal with it if you want to solve your case." That seemed to strike a chord in Lance. He quickly quieted down.

"Mr. Kogane-" Shiro began, free of Lance's interruptions.

"Um, can you call me Keith?" he asked quietly, lowering his head slightly.

"Why should we, Mullet?" Lance said loudly, causing Shiro to sigh loudly.

"I hate being called by that. It reminds me of my father. I just... don't want to be associated with him, that's all." Keith fidgeted uncomfortably, while Lance's expression remained cold and foreboding.

"Fine, Keith." he spat.

"Very well, Keith, if you agree, then you'll be going with Lance to a location for surveillance. You'll be staying there for about a week to watch over Lotor and his gang." Keith visibly froze at the mention of Lotor, and gritted his teeth.

"Lotor, huh? Sounds great." Keith said quietly, with a sort of anger that looked like it had been reserved for a while; a sort of anger that looked like it needed to be released.

"You know him?" Lance's voice had lost all of its previous toxicity, and he now instead sounded intrigued.

"Kind of. He always wanted to partner up, I guess, but I've never liked - or been good with people. I prefer to work alone." Keith cast his gaze over the officers, before continuing, "Not to mention that I never wanted to do this. Hell no, I got forced into it by a lousy excuse for a father."

"Why couldn't you just, I don't know, stop? From what you're telling us, it sounds like he's out of the picture." A tall, dark officer piped up from the back of the room, his orange headband standing out starkly against the dim room.

"I don't think it would be that easy, Hunk." A scrawny cop with short, tufty, sandy coloured hair and large round glasses spoke. She looked to be deep in thought, searching for answers to explain Keith's predicament.

"Exactly. My dad has his men watch me, to check I'm still 'carrying his legacy' as he puts it. He's a prick." Keith smiled bitterly, "I tried to leave by coming here - to Brooklyn - I was gonna be free to do what I wanted, to live happily, but he got them to follow me. I was trapped." Tears began to well up in Keith's eyes. Anguish that he had contained for years made itself clear, and walls that Keith had built up over many years came crashing down in a matter of seconds. He banged his fists on the table as his tears fell, fat drops that streamed down his pale cheeks and landed below him on his scarred hands. He managed to choke them back after a minute or two, gulping loudly.

"I-I'm sorry," he muttered shakily, "Can you just tell me what you gotta do so I can get it over with?"

Shiro pushed himself up to leave the room, beckoning for Lance, Hunk and the other girl - who had been referred to as a 'Pidge' - to follow. Keith intently watched as Lance politely declined and waited for the others to file out of the room, before taking up Shiro's position in front of him. From this angle, Keith could see all the features on Lance's face that he had never noticed before - small dark freckles that littered his face, seemingly arranged too perfectly. His hair was shiny, and there was a minute gap between his two front teeth - slightly obscured by smooth, plump lips. Now, it was easy for Keith to see why he had fallen for Lance; he was stunning. A natural beauty.

And Keith couldn't help but smile slightly, softly, in his presence.

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i have these exact same arguments with my family lance don't be sad my dude
i find it easy to write for lance when he's homesick, purely because my family is the same size, if not bigger than his, so as well as lance just being a relatable character, his feelings and insecurities are relatable to me.

oof my chapters are getting shorter and shorter. oh well, as long as i can get over 1000 words, i should be good.

check out my social medias! (they're trash please don't)

my twitter: @rainylance
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