?

Log in

 
 
13 April 2008 @ 08:46 pm
 


It didn't take me long to heal after that night. Externally, that is. It was the hard rock in the pit of my stomach and the tight clench in my chest that didn't go away though. He thought I was using him. I could taste the bile in the back of my throat every time I thought about that night.

So I put in for my week's vacation, packed up Darla and Connor, and took off for the beach. Some little shack Darla's dad left her when he died a few years back, God rest his soul. Nothing fancy, we brought some padding for sleeping and some picnic food, a few things for the kitchen and that was it. I think we all needed to get away. Away from me and the job, away from Los Angeles, big hulk of a beast that it is.

Connor and I got a chance to talk some, about police academy, about Willow, and I gave him my blessing on both counts. I don't think Connor really believed me, and he sat there gaping at me for a long while... But he did stop looking at me like the sullen teenager he once was. He actually smiled I think before the week was over.

And Darla and I...we took some long walks on the beach, snuggled a little, I made her laugh again, and we started to feel like our old selves. I started to feel like maybe Wes was all a dream.

But it wasn't real, now was it.

Thought I was getting back to reality when I was really just running away from it all. After that little realization, my heart clenched a little tighter and my gut throbbed a little more at night. Wesley. There really wasn't a chance I was going to forget him, was there?

And when I got back I was right back on the beat like always. Never did stop being a beat cop just because I got moved up to detective. Can't stand sitting behind a desk letting other Joes do the work. We're all in this together, so why not get your hands dirty, I always say.

Just so happened a few weeks after I got back I got a little bit closer to Wes than I ever thought I'd be again.

The commissioner wanted to crack down on the speakeasies in town, run out the crime bosses and turn out all the corrupt cops. So we were raiding bars and clubs left and right. Every other night I came home with a bruised shin or a black eye. The men with their drinks didn't go down easy no matter if you had a badge or not. It was a nice distraction, being allowed to punch people every night. Got out my frustrations more than I would have otherwise.

Too bad William Pryce had to be in one of those speakeasies. We arrested him like the rest of the people in the bar, of course. He fought back, of course. And I knew the minute he was back at the station, that one phone call was going to be going to just the man I didn't want to see. Of course.
 
 
Current Mood: pessimisticpessimistic
 
 
 
Wesley Wyndam-Prycewatcher_pryce on April 14th, 2008 11:55 am (UTC)
"Wes! Phone call!" Cordelia hollered from her desk.

Sighing I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Things hadn't been going well. William hadn't shown up this morning for work. Not all that unusual, but it was past noon now and he still wasn't there. Something had to be done, it would seem a stern talking between myself and my brother lay in the future.

"Can't you take a message?" I asked wearily.

The silence that came from the other room was-- strange. I was expecting Cordy to scoff until I realized that she usually takes messages. That meant the call must be important. Pushing myself out of my chair, I trudged over to the door and glanced over at Cordy's desk. The look on her face made me raise an eyebrow.

"I think you should take this one personally," she said, giving me an apologetic look. "Police. About Spike."

Counting to ten hadn't been enough then. A short talk later I found myself in my car driving toward the police station. Fuming all the way. This really had to stop. How many times was I going to have to bail that wanker out of jail? How hard could it be to *stay* bloody well out of trouble? If I could do it, why couldn't William?

After I arrived at the station, I sat in my car and drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I didn't want to go in there. Liam worked there and I might run into him. Hadn't seen him in quite a while either. Not heard from it at all. No requests for a meeting in-- one of our usual places. Nothing at all. Almost as if he'd broke things off. And maybe he had... just forgot to tell me about it? I don't know, and perhaps it was for the best.

Realizing that I couldn't put it off any longer, I took a deep breath and got out of the car. The buzz and the noise of the people inside the police station washed over me like a wave of hard water. With a grim look on my face I strode over to the front desk, waiting with barely held patience until the officer on duty finally looked up.

"I received a call? About one William Pryce. I'm his brother..." I said, wondering how many times I stood here saying that line. William ought to start paying me for every time.
Keep Me: ang alley_keep_me on April 15th, 2008 01:48 am (UTC)
I'm just getting off shift after yet another graveyard of helping out with the perp booking when I hear that voice I'm so desperate to hear and so desperate to avoid.

I'll be the first to admit, I didn't have to take all the graveyard shifts lately, but it sure as hell helped me cut down on the possibility of seeing Wes around and got me in on all the raids to release some of my tension. Between the night shifts and the vacation, I hadn't seen him much at all actually. And to be honest, I'm terrified to turn around. I've got this feeling that if I do, something's gonna happen, like I'm gonna want to kiss him right here in the booking area, or seeing him is going to make my heart burst and my gut churn harder over what I can't have, what I'm never going to have.

And then part of me wonders if he even knows how deep he hurt me with that one little remark.

So I stay there, messing with the sheaf of fingerprint pages I'm about to file before I get out of here, and wondering how I'm going to get to my desk without the two of us crossing paths. I know, I'm five. But...what choice do I have? Pretend like we do every other time?

I swallow and I can't help myself, I look over my shoulder at him. Just to see if he's doing alright! And our eyes meet. If I thought I was lost before, I'm totally adrift now, and I quickly look back down at the ink-smudged papers in my hands before crossing behind the front station desk over to my own. ...And only a quick grunt or nod to Wesley in acknowledgment, I'm not sure which.

Funny, my heart is beating so loud, I feel like everyone in the station can hear it.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: I'm no superman S5watcher_pryce on April 15th, 2008 04:35 am (UTC)
The moment I enter the place I make it a point *not* to look around. Tried not to look for *him*, tried not to think of the many times I'd picked up the phone to call myself. But what'd I say? I've no idea, it was a rule that I didn't call him, one I hadn't broken in all our time together. It was a solid rule, since we couldn't explain why I'd need to call a cop. Him contacting me could be put down on the usual 'harassing the detective' sort of thing.

I had thought about asking Cordy to call, but then what do I tell her? We have been getting closer since my -- I don't know what it was, a fight? Since my fight with Liam and I'm starting to wonder if she suspects something. She's not stupid and she sees far more then I want to know. If she does suspect, or does call me on it one day, I'm not sure what to do other then making damn sure she'd not going to ruin Liam's career.

Right now though, I have bigger problems. Problems in the form of a younger brother whom cannot seem to stay out of trouble. My patience was starting to wear thin when it came to that. With all the added stress of the whole Liam thing, it was the last thing I needed right now. Things weren't looking up at all. But when *I* finally looked up, he was there. Liam. Looking at me with what I could only think of as a mixture of-- something akin to hate and lust at the same time.

And once again since our argument I couldn't help but wonder who in the hell he thought he was, treating me like that after I saved his arse and his job while he went around hitting me. And kissing me in public, *just* so he didn't have to go home. Using me to keep himself from getting home. My eyes narrowed when he didn't even say a word, just some noise before quickly looking away.

"Ya have to talk to the arresting officer," the chap at the desk said. And it was as if someone hit the pause button again and the room started to move. Up until then I hadn't even realized everything had seemed to move as though in slow motion.

"Hey! Callaghan!" he called out and I made it a point not to let anything show on my face. It had to happen sometimes. "Someone's here for that Pryce guy."
Keep Me: pb det callaghan_keep_me on April 20th, 2008 04:00 am (UTC)
I sink into my desk chair as quick as I can in the sea of desks - I'm not hiding! - and give a breath of relief. It's like Wes was trying to do with the kissing in the car. Protecting him. If we have this out right here in a room full of cops no doubt we'll both be arrest for sodomy or something. Jesus.

Yes, that's what I'm doing, I tell myself. I'm not avoiding him. No, not avoiding because I don't want my heart crushed again I finally have my son back and things going well with Darla, and I don't want to screw that up somehow. That's it.

Sucking in a deep breath, I thumb through the prints we did. Pulled in so many guys, one of which is why I'm being forced to hide here at my desk instead of heading blearily home.

When I hear my name and his though in the same sentence though, I know I'm not going home any time soon and none of this is going to go well. So much for hiding.

"Send him back, Walt," I say, resting my head on my hands for a brief moment and sighing. Setting the prints aside, I lean back in my chair, pointedly not watching as Walt brings him around the counter. I'd stare and then the whole station would know what's being going on. Or not, lately.

I motion to the chair right next to my desk, all too close if you ask me, and then look into those baby blues. Wes doesn't look so good. Why? "You're not going to be able to bail him out this time," I say, looking at him apologetically and then glancing away. Gotta keep this business, Callaghan. Keep it professional.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: close upwatcher_pryce on April 20th, 2008 10:10 am (UTC)
The moment the police officer brings me around the corner, I'm watching him. Watching Liam. I've been watching him since I noticed him of course, but now it's more of a study if you will. Watch him look anywhere and at anyone *but* me. Watch him try to keep himself from doing so until there's no other choice. And even then those eyes are void of the emotions I'd been able to pick up so easily late. Cold. Distant. And once again I find myself reeling a bit wondering what the hell happened.

Did he decided that 'we' weren't to be anymore? Did he grow tired of hiding in low-budget hotels for a quick bugger and nothing else? Did he get afraid we were gonna be found out and send away to the insane asylum? Personally I think he finally decided that we - I - am not worth it and he's put a full stop on our relation ship. Went back to his wife and son, just like I've always thought feared would happen. He just forgot to mention it to *me* then didn't he? Does he think I go around pulling everyone's arse out of danger? Didn't he think I'd worry about him after what happened?

When he finally speaks it's all business and to my ears it sounds cold. Distant. Not at all like the Liam I have gotten to know. A flash of slight hurt flicks over my face before I manage to burry it deep, deep inside myself. It's not the first time this happened to you, Pryce. But you can make damn sure it's the last. I should know by now that I'm not meant to be with anyone, secret or not. My fate in life is to be alone until I die.

Well, that and take care of my baby brother. Which I should focus on now and forget about anything else. That's not in my control, out of my reach. William as of yet isn't. "I think I'll let a judge decided that," I tell Liam, the tone of my voice equally as business like as his. Though I can't quite manage to make it sound as cold as I wanted it to be. "What are the full charges? And I'd like to see him, make sure he's alright," I add, somewhat of a challenge in my voice.
Keep Me: pb det callaghan_keep_me on May 5th, 2008 01:55 am (UTC)
I shuffle some more papers on my desk to avoid looking at Wesley, because if I look at him too long, I'll want to give in, I'll want to signal him, to talk, to-- Anything. I miss him. But how could he think I was using him? That I didn't care about him?

"They're going to make an example of him," I quietly, looking at Wesley carefully finally. "Along with everyone else they've picked up. You're going to need a lawyer. They're going to try to take it to court," I add, running a hand over my face and giving a look that says I'm telling you this as a friend.

"He's being charged with resisting arrest, purchasing an illegal substance-- They're going to take this as far as they can, Wes," I add, keeping my voice low and leaning towards him slightly. I know, I shouldn't be telling him these things, and I don't even know that I want to after what he said, but...Spike is his family. Family is...everything when Spike and Willow are the only family Wesley's got.

"I don't know if you'll be able to see him. I'll see what I can do," I say, leaning back more casually when one of the other lieutenants passes by to go to his desk. It's on the tip of my tongue to say I'm sorry, to say 'let's just talk', but I-- I can't.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Red Shirtwatcher_pryce on May 5th, 2008 04:39 am (UTC)
There's no emotion on my face while he plays his little spiel. I thought by now he'd not bother with that where it involved me. But it would seem I've turned into any random guy from the street whom he has to lecture and be dramatic to. I know Liam, he has a flair for the dramatics. I'm not sure why he's telling me this.

Is he trying to intimidate me? Is he trying to punish me? The latter seems more likely, considering his behaviour lately. His complete absence lately. The fact that he can't even look into my eyes any longer as well. I've no idea what happened, or what I've done to deserve this sort of treatment. But I wont stand for it.

"I'll let our lawyer handle that, Detective," I tell him stiffly. "And as his immediate relative, it's within his and my rights to see him, as you well know. So please, lets not try that method of intimidation shall we?" I thought I was better then that, Liam, I think but don't say. Though it's probably visible in my eyes.

I don't understand what happened all those weeks ago. Other then that I hauled his arse out of a fight, saved not only his job, but also got him to talk to his bloody son. In return he used me to keep from going home as long as he possibly could. I can't point out things like that any longer? If that is the case, then I'll have to think harder about the proposition Cordelia made. Maybe I should forget about Liam.

He's obviously made his choice. How nice of him to tell me about those. I missed you. I needed you. Where were you? "I think I'd like to see him now," I say, getting up from the hard chair, "while we wait for our lawyer. Thank you, detective."

McDonald should be here any moment now. He's a sneaky snake, but he's the best lawyer around in cases like these. Its one of those one hand washes the other type deal. Considering the little prick still owes us several ones, he'd better get here fast.
Keep Me: ang training/glare_keep_me on May 11th, 2008 03:10 am (UTC)
Why is he giving me the cold shoulder? I'm trying to be professional in a professional setting and still treat him like a friend. This is worse than when I first met him and he spoke to me like I was not to be trusted, not even an inch. He was scared then, but he's not scared now.

His words make me angry though. "I am not trying to intimidate you, Mr. Pryce," I say meeting him nose to nose when he stands. "I am trying to do you a favor," I hiss, resisting the urge to put a hand on him. "They're not going to let you see him alone. The county is biased on this case and they're going to make it as damn difficult as possible for him to get out of this," I tell Wesley in a low voice, but still angry that he can't even listen to me for one goddamn minute when I'm the one who should be mad at him!

"You better hope your lawyer's better than McDonald," I growl, stepping backwards to pick up Spike's file from my desk. "I can have one of the other officers escort you if you like, or I can accompany you now while night shift is leaving," I tell him, softening my tone. I hate being like this with him. I hate being angry with him. I hate-- that I miss him so much. Why does he have to get me like this?
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: I'm no superman S5watcher_pryce on May 12th, 2008 08:37 am (UTC)
That little show of defence only gets him a raised eyebrow. Sure, he's trying to do me a favour. Just like he was doing me a favour by using me to strafe of going home all those weeks ago? By kissing me where every bloody fool could see us? And then walking away from me and not show his face for weeks on end? Not that I was worried, god no, heaven forbid I'm worried about the great Liam Callaghan.

"Yes, I'm sure. I think I can manage without *your* favours, detective," I assure him coldly, giving him a look to match. I know my rights. I know William's rights as well. With as often as we come in contact with the law it's hard not to know the rules. The official and the un-official ones. McDonald happens to be able to work with both set of rules.

"You're certain this his nothing to do with the fact that you happen to be the leading officer in the case?" I ask, knowing just how low that hit was. I can't help myself though. All the anger and the worry that has been building while he was gone, never to be heard from until now, seems to want to come out. It couldn't have come at a more inappropriate time.

You only get this angry and hurt the people you love. Isn't that what they say? Damn. I don't need this right now. Focus, Pryce. Get William out of jail and stay away from Liam from now on. It's obvious he no longer wants you. Looks like play time is over.

"Either way works with me. I don't care, I want to make sure William is alright," I tell him, already turning on my heels to walk into the direction the cells are. It's...rather disturbing that I know by now where those are. That's how often I've come to bail William out of this bloody place.
Keep Me: ang sad_keep_me on May 18th, 2008 10:07 pm (UTC)
It's hard not to dislike him, or growl at him when he gets like this. Defensive, closed off... he wouldn't give me the time of day right now if he didn't have to.

"Wasn't my call," I tell him, doing my damnedest to keep my voice even and not growl. I'm not rising to his bait. "I have orders. I tried to warn Spike," I say in a lower voice. I don't want anyone thinking I was insubordinate, but Wes should know I wouldn't arrest Spike just because he drives me around the bend. Yeah, Spike and I aren't buddies, but more importantly, I know that Wes comes in here all too often to bail Spike out - with the meager amount of money he's got that's already spread to thin - and I wouldn't make life worse on him like that even if Wes and I *are* on the outs.

He can think what he wants, I wasn't the one to arrest Spike. There were plenty of officers down on those raids.

"Fine. Bobby will take you down," I say, seeing that cool demeanor tell me that he doesn't want to be in my presence for one more second. Yeah, if I were a guy grasping at straws, I might have thought that Wes left it up to me to decide because he just doesn't want to say that he wants me to take him down. But I'm not grasping at straws. I'm not the one who should be apologizing.

"I'll see you around, Pryce. My shift was over a long time ago," I tell him, motioning to Bobby to take Wes downstairs while I grab my coat. He can take it or leave it that I stayed late just for him and his screw up brother. "Good luck with your brother," I say quietly.
Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: b/w frownwatcher_pryce on May 19th, 2008 04:00 am (UTC)
I've always known that the day would come that Liam would come to his senses. That he'd figure out what a great wife has and great son. The day that he's leave me to go back to them. I've always known and feared that this day would come. I never thought it would happen like this though.

With him walking away from me after he angrily left me in the car and then played possum for weeks on end. I can feel both anger and sadness rising in me the moment he turns his back to me. Its like a cold hand curls around my heart and squeezes it tight until it almost stops beating.

I should have know. Men like myself aren't meant for love. Almost I had fallen into that trap of thinking, hoping, that he might love me. But I was a fool. To Liam I was nothing but... I'm not even sure what I was to him. Something to use to get out of his routine, boring life for a while?

The thought that he could so easily break me, destroy me with what he knows is not something I want to think about. He wouldn't do that would he? Then again, I never thought we'd end like this. Never. Sure, I had pictured a fight, but also a lot of talking before I was going to let him go. Looks like letting go of him isn't going to be my problem.

He's walking away. From me. And part of me wants to run after him. But I'm not the one who should be apologizing. "That's *mister* Pryce for you, Detective," I tell his cold, broad back. "If it bothers you so much you shouldn't have taken any time or effort."

Standing there, I glare holes in his back until a cough next to me alerts me someone's standing next to me. "I'd like to see my brother now, officer. Thank you." One last glance at the vanish back of the man who means more to me then he'll ever know and then I too, turn around to move on with my life. If that's at all possible.