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Spook Pt. 17

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Half a hour later - after damn near being picked up for speeding - Jet was slamming the door shut on his undercover car, a rusted ugly blue Chevy. He marched up to the truck holding his . . . his . . . whatever the fuck they were.

"Killian!" He banged on the glass and after getting no answer, began to panic inside. He was stoic on the outside going back to his car. He opened the trunk and pulled out a small back satchel, pulling out a few tools before going back to the ugly truck. It took Jet over a minute to open the truck bed window and he admitted to himself he was getting rusty. It had been a damn long time since he had to pick a lock.

Once the latch gave, he whipped the door opened and pulled on Killian's leg.

Somewhere in the back of his unconscious mind, Killian knew he wasn't in danger. And because of that, he didn't wake. Instead he let out a soft, whimpering grumble, pulling his ankle out of Jet's grip, Killian turned onto his stomach and pulled a blanket over his head.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing taking a damn nap in middle of the fucking street?" Jet reached in and pulled the man out by bits of clothing and blanket. He flung Killian over his shoulder before shutting the topper window. "Have a damn killer to catch you stupid shit and here I am saving your ass."

Another whiny whimper escaped the sleepy Killian's mouth before his eyes cracked open. "Huh? Wuz . . . Jet?"

"Yes, me." He opened the door to the back and with much cursing was able to get the long legged man onto the bench seat.

"How?" Killian was still trying to wake up, fighting to keep sleeping and yet open his eyes.

"Like you don't know." Jet shut the door after he was sure the long legs were cleared. Jet checked his watch as he made his way to the driver's seat. "I have two hours until I have to start following that man and here I am babysitting."

"Mmm, was having a fantastic dream about you. Your cock was in my . . ." Killian paused in mid stretch and sentence, his eyes snapping open. "No! You can't!" He shot upright and then cursed as he hit his head on the roof. "And fuck you! I was perfectly fucking fine in the back of my truck!"

"Fine, right, helpless and ready to be shot or worse." The dark haired man glanced back for a second as he turned onto the highway. "I have to do my job and secondly if you want my cock then you better be home when I am."

"I would have woken right the hell up if I was in danger!" Killian growled, still trying to wake up. He gripped the back of the front seats and began to pull himself up. "Second, your job is not to trail demons. And third, your home is not my home and I won't stay there!" He pulled himself between the seats, still a bit groggy and shaky.

"You didn't even wake up when I was banging on the truck. A fucking tornado could have ripped through and you'd have slept through it. I probably don't even want to know why you're so wiped out." Jet glanced to his side to look at the blue haired man. "My job is to catch bad guys and this guy is a bad guy. Is that in simple enough language for you idiot? And you're staying with me until you find a new place to live and we figure out these tattoos."

"And I'm fucking telling you if I had been in actual danger I would have woken the fuck up! And obviously you're not listening to my simple enough Goddamn language your overbearing Neanderthal! You can't go after this cracked out serial killer because he isn't fucking HUMAN!" Killian spat back, landing with a thump in the front seat before pulling on Jet's ear, yelling into the audible orifice.

"And I'm not fucking staying with you!"

"I rather own a shrilling cat than have to listen to you scream!" The cop pushed the man away with a long arm. "Damn it you're not making any fucking sense! Not human? Did you hit your head? What is he? Easter bunny on crack?"

"He could be for all that you listen to a word I say. He's a demon, a mother fucking demon. And yes I know how crazy that sounds but it's true." Killian threw his arms up, rolling his eyes. "I don't know why I'm bothering. You're not going to believe me anyway."

"Now tell me why the hell would you think this guy is a demon? That shit is story book bullshit and I'd figure you to be the last believing in faerie tales."

"You know, if you're not going to believe me by my word. I don't even know why we're having this conversation." Killian turned in his seat and glared at the man. "You've talked to me for the last day, you've fucked me so hard markings and spirits appeared, you've had a spirit write in your mirror AND come get you to show you where I was and you're doubting that there's other shit in the world?"

"You're asking me to jump from believing in ghosts to believing in demons here Kil." Jet shook his head as he headed to his apartment. "What do you want me to say? Ok. Demon. Great. Let me phone right up to the Captain and let him know that the college kid is a demon. What do you think he'd do to me?"

"I don't know what the hell he would do. All I'm doing is telling you that the kid is a demon. He's killing these girls for the shit of it. And you were right, he is collecting trophies. He's collecting their souls. Their very essence."

"Souls?" Jet's brow furrowed. "Damn it Kil, I can't get a warrant or conviction on souls. You know that right?"

"You know what? Fuck this. I'm done with this shit." Killian took the opportune moment of a red light to open the door. "I give you info to try and protect your ass and all you do is give me a ration of shit."

"What the hell are you doing? Get back in here damn it!" Jet screamed as his long reach grabbed Killian's arm. "Why the fuck are you giving me such a hard time?!"

"Why the fuck are you giving me such a hard time?!" Killian parroted, twisting his arm in an attempt to get away from Jet's grip. "I'm done with this. I'm done with you. I'm tired of trying to tell you shit only for you to knock me down and call me a liar!"

"Son of a bitch!" Jet yanked the blue haired man into the car enough that he could pull off to the side of the road and turn on the emergency lights before slamming the car into park.

"Now you listen you aggravating ass hole! You want to fly off the handle and just find a reason to be pissed at me fine, but let's get some things straightened out here!

One I have never called you lair. Not once did ignore you but you're not giving me much time to absorb this crazy bullshit. You just lay it at my goddamned feet and then expect me to be an instant believer. That's a far fucking jump considering we've only been civil, and barely that, the last two days.

Secondly all that fucking was mutual. You're the one that is dabbling in this weird shit and when I fuck you hard enough to bequeath tattoos you need to realize it freaks me out too! You're not in this alone you stubborn shit."

Killian stared at Jet in silence for a moment, the only sound being the grinding of his teeth and heavy breathing from his anger and remaining exhaustion.

"FUCK!" The word was screamed, an outburst of frustration and anger before Killian exploded out of the vehicle and immediately began pacing back and forth in front of it. "Son of fucking mother of a whore I hate this shit! You're right, you're fucking right. I didn't even believe this shit at first."

"Get in the car." Jet shook his head. "I'll take you back to my place. You still look half dead. I need to follow this guy, demon or not. I won't let him kill another woman."

Instead Killian sat down on the hood of the car, his elbows on his knees and arms dangling between them as he stared off into nothing. He was tired and the thought of curling up in Jet's ocean of a bed sounded heavenly. But he couldn't do that; he couldn't let Jet go after this guy, demon, whatever the hell he was.

"I don't want him to kill again either. He doesn't allow them peace. He tortures them, keeps them alive as long as possible and then when they finally escape into what is suppose to be the peace of death . . . all they get is more hell." He unconsciously rubbed his left arm, the designs on his skin feeling as if they were burning and crawling at the same time. Had since Jet came within close proximity to him. "You can't go after this guy Jet. Not alone. Not unless you have a death wish."

"How do you know the guy still can't be killed by a lot of bullets?" Jet asked as he looked behind him hoping no one tried to give them a ticket. He didn't want to explain why they were sitting on the side of the road.

"And how are you going to explain that?" Killian changed his voice to a deep official sounding tone. "And why, Detective Mastersen, did you fire four clips into the DA's nephew?'" Yet again, his voice changed to a parody of Jet's own rough tone. "'Well you see your honor, he was a demon. I figured it was the only way I could kill it.'" Killian cast a sardonic look over his shoulder at the large man in the driver's seat. "I'm sure that'll go over well."

"I could always attempt to fall back on self defense. Sorry your honor the bastard was trying to steal my soul." Jet let out a small snort as he pointed to the passenger seat. "Now get your ass in ok? I still need to pick up shit and hopefully I can get eyes on him before it gets too dark."

Killian sighed in resignation, sliding off the hood of the car and dusting dirt off his tight ass before walking wearily to the passenger side. He flopped in the car gracelessly, pulling his legs in before shutting the door.

"Hopefully we don't. I'd rather not end up in ribbons and missing my soul."

"Doesn't sound fun." Jet put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. "You done with the meltdown for a moment? On a serious note, if this guy is a demon why wouldn't bullets kill him?"

"Sorry. Just tired and stressed the hell out. Too much shit in two days." Killian rubbed his face and gritty eyes before leaning back in the seat and putting his feet up on the dash. "I don't know, maybe because he's a fucking demon. I'm thinking if he has the power to pull your soul out of your bloody corpse and keep it in a cookie jar on his counter next to it's toaster that bullets aren't exactly it's biggest concern, ya know?"

"I don't really have much else to use." The cop shook his head. "I'm not going to drop catching this guy."

"All I'm sayin' is maybe you should do some research first." Killian said, closing his eyes and moving his head to the side of the headrest so that his head was leaning on the actual back of the chair and closing his eyes. "Cause the way your goin' sounds like your gonna get us killed babe."

"Killian, not trying to start a fight, but where the fuck would I go for info on killing demons that doesn't include me reading in the teen section at the book store."

"Mythology department in the library perhaps? Just throwin' that out there." Killian mumbled, his voice sleepy again. "I heard they have different departments in the library. If demons are real 'haps some of the ways to kill them are in books bout 'em."

"You need sleep." Jet was quiet the rest of the way to his apartment. As he pulled into the parking spot he looked over at the blue haired man. "Can you make it up or are you asleep?"

"A 'lil asleep but not so asleep to realize this is a really uncomfortable position. But I better get used to it if I'm going to be watching out with you tonight." Killian yawned and stretched, tan skin showing between the edge of his frayed shirt and the top of his pants.

Jet checked his watch and looked back up at the dozy man.

"I can only give you another hour to nap. This guy is going to kill soon again if he stays on pattern."

"That's fine. I can take an hour power nap." Killian let his boots drop from the dashboard onto the floorboards before opening the car door and stepping out. "Hey, how did Misty get in touch with ya? And how'd ya find me?" He blinked blearily at Jet, his ocean colored hair sticking adorably in many directions.

Jet was chuckling for a few seconds as he waited for Killian to catch up. "Not telling you until after your nap."

"That's not fair." Killian pouted and it only made his sleepy and mussed appear more debauched.

"You're the one sending dead people to message me. Talking about not fair. Get a cell phone."

"If I could afford a cell phone I wouldn't have been living in a shitty ass apartment in Lowtown. Not all of us have disposable income ya know." Killian pointed out, following Jet to the elevators.

"Then you can have one of the cells I usually give informants." Jet shrugged as he pushed his floor number.

"Do you usually fuck your informants?" Killian said before he yawned, leaning against the elevator wall. "I wouldn't know what to do with a phone."

"No, I don't. I haven't fucked anyone in a few months and the last time was nothing important." Jet waved a hand of dismissal. "You can figure out a phone."

"Hmm, wasn't I supposed to be nothing important?"

"Yes, supposed, then we ended up with tattoos that get all tingly when you're passed out. Let's not forget this demon shit you just put on my shoulders. I am beginning to think nothing isn't an option."

"Sorry to disappoint you and ruin your plans." Killian yawned as the elevator doors opened, walking out into the hall. "I'll try and not be so inconvenient in the future."

"I don't think its inconvenience. When my ex would forget to tell me her snooty parents were coming over for dinner that was inconvenient. This is a skip beyond fucked up and reaching towards freakville. Tattoos, demons, ghosts." Jet tossed up his hands and looked upwards towards the fancy lighting.

"Okay, not inconvenient. Merely a freak. Good to know." Killian leaned against the wall next to Jet's door, waiting for the large man to open the door.

"I'm not sure if you're the freak." Jet shrugged as he pushed the door open. "I think you just draw freak things towards you."

"I'm the one who speaks and sees ghosts and you're not sure I'm the freak? Huh. I think yer a bit skewed there." Kil followed Jet inside, starting to undo the ties that held his shirt together as he moved towards the bedroom.

"Go to sleep freaky person." Jet said teasingly. "I have to make a few calls."

"Fuuuuuck you." Killian mumbled as he let the shirt fall to the floor in the hallway. The two stilettos were strapped to his chest in makeshift sheaths, one on either side of his ribs. "Who the hell you have to talk to anyway? Have a mythology prof on speed dial?" He unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them.

"Sort of but you're going to be unconscious in ten seconds." Jet pulled out his cell while he took out his cooler.

"Probably five as long as I can figure how to get my boots off." Killian sat on the bed and stared down at the offending footwear.

He began to pull out the cooler packs and lined the sides of the square box while he listened to the phone ring. He figured Killian would continue to bitch until he passed out.

Sighing, Killian gave up and flopped back on the bed, his legs still dangling over the edge of the bed. His boots were still on, his pants undone and showing a few short curly hairs of blue from between the parted fabric. They were both wrong. He was out in less then five seconds.
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