 FIC: "Hanging by a Moment" Jim's ears were ringing, as though he had just spent an hour at the firing range. He couldn't make out what was being said around the table, so he watched the smiling faces and quickly diminishing beer mugs with a sense of disorientation. All he could concentrate on was what T.J. McCabe had said. "Gamble and I were never partnered on the force, but we sure make a great team in the bedroom." He had said it with his customary half-wink, a bullshit bit of business that usually meant he was lying through his teeth. Sanchez had turned away in disgust, refusing to participate, but the others had cocked an interested ear, wondering just what T.J. could possibly mean by such an outrageous statement. Surely he and the macho former S.W.A.T. officer weren't sleeping together! Street, who had partnered with Brian Gamble for five years, knew exactly what T.J. meant. How many times had Brian talked (and drank) him into pairing up with the same woman? Even now, nearly a year since the bitter locker room confrontation that had ended their partnership and their friendship, he could feel Brian's full, soft lips against his ear, whispering encouragement as he pumped into some faceless, soft body spread beneath him. Brian's muscled chest would press against his back, a strong hand sometimes guiding his thrusting ass. Once he had felt something probe and then enter him from behind; assuming it was a finger, he had stiffened and shot his partner a warning. "Quit it, Brian. You're throwing me off!" Gamble had laughed and laid a wet one on Jim's neck. "You're such a good boy, Jimbo! You'd never admit that you like it in your ass." He was right. Street would never admit such a thing, even if true. And it was true. Now he glanced down and cleared his throat, his face coloring. Jesus, I'm about to pop a woody, he thought. Better cool it. "Last night we left this chick unconscious. She thought she died and went to heaven." T.J. continued his litany of b.s. "Shut up, McCabe," Sanchez finally ordered. "I'm sick of this talk." T.J. smiled, his mouth closed over his teeth. He stuck a toothpick between his lips and clammed up. Jim breathed a sigh of relief. "I've gotta go," Jim announced, suddenly standing. His team members looked up at him in surprise. "See you tomorrow." "Later, Street," said Boxer. A couple voices chimed in. Jim climbed into his convertible and steered out of the parking lot and into L.A. traffic. The radio suddenly blared, his second-hand cd player exhibiting its customary delay. He started, then settled in to the sounds of melodic rock. His apartment at the beach was about twenty minutes away. "Desperate for changing, It was a relatively old song by a group whose name he couldn't remember right away -- a mega-hit that had been overplayed by stations like KIIS-FM. But he liked the tune and the throaty vocal. "Forgetting all I'm lacking.Completely incomplete. I'll take your invitation, You take all of me . . ." Without meaning to, Street was pulled into the lyrics of the tune. He listened, straining to make out the words, then punched the repeat button and listened again. "I'm falling even more in love with you, When he was just blocks from his place, Jim turned toward the beach. He found an empty parking spot and pulled over. The sun was just going down, and he had to squint against the reddened glare in the west. His eyes watered a little, and he told himself it was the strain of the light. He hadn't really cried since he was ten years old. "I'm living for the only thing I know-- For some reason, all Street could think of was the sensual face of his former partner, Brian Gamble. "Standing here until you make me move," reminded him of their confrontation in the locker room, of Gamble's ominous approach, of his vehement curse -- "Fuck you, and fuck S.W.A.T.!" -- and of the back of his head cracking into the mirror behind him from the force of Gamble's angry shove. "There's nothing else to lose. Everything had hung on that moment in the locker room, the pivotal conversation that came after their dressing down by Captain Fuller. Gamble had disobeyed a direct order and ended up wounding a hostage during a tense shootout in a bank. And although the woman's life had probably been saved by the bold act, she was blaming the city and LAPD for her injury. Fuller ordered both Gamble and Street off the S.W.A.T. team and into the gun cage, a sudden wrong turn for what had been a sometimes bumpy but always notable partnership record. Gamble had freaked out. And Fuller had tried to entice his more restrained partner into fingering Gamble by dangling reinstatement in front of Jim's face during a one-on-one meeting in the captain's office. If Street were to admit Gamble had disobeyed a direct order, even the union couldn't protect the maverick cop. Fuller would have his scapegoat, and Jim Street could go back to S.W.A.T. Naturally, Street had told the captain to fuck himself, and he had been promised in return that he would never find his way out of the gun cage. But later in the locker room, Gamble had believed that in the privacy of Fuller's office, Jim had given him up. After five years of watching each other's backs -- of being closer than most married couples -- Gamble had turned on him. And deep down, Jim knew his partner realized he was in the wrong; it was even possible that Brian regretted the shot that had wounded the hostage. How could he question Jim's loyalty, even if Jim were unwilling to walk off the job with him in protest of the insulting treatment at the hands of their commander? "I'm falling even more in love with you, Why hadn't he reacted when Brian pushed him? Why hadn't he fought back -- insisted on his innocence in Fuller's office? Why had he stood, passive, as his partner tattooed the mirror with the outline of his head? He had let the moment pass, and in that moment the closest relationship he had ever known was shattered as surely as that glass. Jim now sat in the gathering dusk, staring out at a dark ocean he didn't see. The only clear image he could make out was the memory of Brian Gamble's flashing gray eyes as he approached him in the locker room. Reliving the moment, Jim realized he hadn't known if Brian was about to hit him or to kiss him. By the time he could gather his senses, Gamble was gone. Street sighed. He had only seen Brian Gamble once since that day. And the meeting hadn't been a happy one. Gamble was still angry and embittered by what he considered to be Jim Street's betrayal. "I'm living for the only thing I know-- Street reached over and pushed the button to eject the cd. He tossed it on the seat next to him and then turned on the ignition and drove away, the sounds of the haunting song still running through his head. Instead of heading home, Street drove back to the bar. It didn't take much convincing to get T.J. to give him Gamble's new address. "Tell me where the fuck Brian lives now!" he said to the suddenly serious McCabe. "Easy! What's the problem?" "Just tell me, T.J!" As soon as he had the address, he turned his car in the right direction. If he took the time to think it over, he'd change his mind, so he didn't dare hesitate. For once he was acting as bold as Brian Gamble would. Jim careened down a dark street in west L.A. and pulled over when he made out the correct numbers. Then he reached in the glove box and took out a pen, picked up the cd -- NOW 7 -- and walked up to the door of the small house. He fumbled in the mailbox until he found a letter addressed with Gamble's name. Ignoring the fact that tampering with the envelope was a federal crime, he ripped it open and stuck the cd half inside. He scribbled "Track 16" on the front and stuck it back in the mailbox. He heard the door open behind him when he was returning to his car. "What the fuck are you doing?" said the familiar voice. "Enjoy the cd!" Street called back without turning around. "It's got a song by J.Lo!" Then he got in his car, fired up the engine and roared away, forcing himself not to look back. He didn't turn the radio on as he drove home. The End Want to listen to the SONG that inspired the fic?
"Hanging by a Moment" [right-click and 'Save Target As']
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