~ His Pet ~ Chapter Five

"~ His Pet ~ Chapter Four" 

Chapter Five

Rudy Giuliani Family Sports Complex
Friday June 7th

He looked like the stereotypical bad-ass, gang banger standing there with his fitted ball cap backwards over his ponytail. The sunlight glinted off a thick, gold chain around his neck, wrap around, designer shades, and the expected gold fillings. His loose fitting baseball jersey proudly sported the double ought, the name Idonije, and the NYPD 13th Precinct ~SVU insignia. Detective Jerome Idonije squinted in at Callahan crouched behind home plate and nodded. Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Correctional Officer Sean Murphy standing at the plate. The Irishman's average build and charming smile hid a slugger's feel for the game. He was dangerous. He had hit a grand slam in the ninth in their last meeting, costing the 13th the game. Jerome let loose with a wicked slider and grinned in relief as it connected solidly into Bry's mitt for strike three, ending the 8th inning.

High fives were exchanged, as the SVU team reentered their dugout.
"Gina, you're up first. Sara, you're on deck." Captain Carson said, swatting Gina's behind with the clipboard as she climbed the steps, and looked around for Detective Sara Rashbaum.

"Jesus!" Idonije was saying to his partner in disgust. "You look like a geek, girl!" he griped, snatching her hat and shaping the bill in his hands. Carson shook his head, watching his two detectives. The partners were as different as night and day. Idonije was short, stocky, relaxed, black, and street smart. Rashbaum was a tall, nearly emaciated looking Jew, with a quiet, serious demeanor and an IQ off the charts. Their strengths and weaknesses complimented very well.

"Sara! You're on deck!" Cap reminded her a little exasperated.

"On my way Captain, just as soon as my esteemed partner deems my headgear to be of an appropriate level of "coolness"." Sara said wryly. Jerome glared at her and thrust the hat back.

"Grab your batting helmet, and get your scrawny ass out there," he snapped. Then, stepping up on the steps to watch, he muttered, "And try not to stand there for 3 strikes this time. At least attempt to hit the damn thing!"

Not bothering to turn her head, Rashbaum swatted her behind in the universal invitation to "pucker up".


Bryce leaned on the railing, staring pensively out at the field. He was bone tired. The camaraderie of the dugout seemed forced, and he knew they were feeling the same thing he was. They had found two more working girls, dead, courtesy of their "Jack the Ripper". One of the bodies pulled out of the water was at least three weeks old, which told them that their boy had been under the radar for a while before surfacing. He rubbed at his eyes under his sunglasses, then looked back to the field willing this game to end.


McSorley's Pub
7th Street Manhattan
Friday June 7th


The pub rang with cheers and laughter as the one three celebrated their big win over the Rikers team. The correctional officers were good sports and had sprung for a pizza and the first couple of pitchers. Dr. Stern had showed up at the game to "cheer the one three on" and now was looking a little cozy with Gina. Bryce had a feeling the good doctor had just been checking out Gina's assets in her baseball uniform. Taking another drink of his beer, Bryce gave a little mental shrug. How could he blame the guy for looking? Gina was a beautiful woman. Of course, if he hurt his partner, then Bryce would be forced to kill him and dispose of his body in that special way that had lurked in his mind for years. It was comforting to know that should the need exist, Bryce Callahan had a plan. The thought made him smile to himself.

"Care to share the joke, Detective?" a husky voice next to him inquired. He looked over in surprise and recognized Riker's third baseman. Basewoman, he corrected himself. He studied her out of the corner of his eye as she leaned next to him against the bar. She was nothing remarkable. She was 5'9-5'10, long limbed with an athletic build. He had noted her "assets" on the field and they were tight and firm like her small breasts. She had dark skin, high cheekbones, and straight, inky black hair cut in a close pixie similar to Gina's. Eskimo or Indian was his guess even with the French last name of Leblanc. She did, he now noted, have very pretty eyes. The obsidian orbs sparkled in amusement as she waited for him to finish his appraisal.

"Just wondering what my partner and the good head doctor are chatting about. Nice guy or not, I try to stay clear of the shrinks," he chuckled. She smiled and nodded in understanding.

"Funny how their spin on things always makes us sound like the sociopath," she joked, and to his surprise, Bryce found himself laughing along with her.


Bryce Callahan's Apartment
Saturday June 8th


A ringing noise penetrated Bryce's sleep and alcohol fogged brain. Rolling with a mumbled curse, he reached for the phone. Guilt kicked him in the gut when he rolled into a warm body blocking his way. Stretching over the now waking form, he snatched the telephone.

"Callahan," he barked.

"Morning, partner. I just wanted to give you a little wake up call in case you were feeling as rough as you looked last night," Gina said on the other end of the phone.

He scrubbed at his face and glanced again at the slowly stretching form next to him. He sighed a big sigh of relief knowing it WASN'T his partner lying next to him. As much as he LOVED Gina, that would have really fucked things up.

"I'm awake. Thanks for the call. I appreciate it," he said rather hastily. "I will see you at the station."

Punching the off button on the phone, he looked at the raven-haired young woman sitting next to him on the bed. From the look in her dark eyes, he guessed she was as upset with this morning's situation as he was. He had no idea what to say to her at this point. He remembered being at the pub with...Summer...her name was Summer. They had been having a good time, which was something he hadn't done in a very long time. She had an excellent sense of humor. He remembered deciding to share a cab. As for being in bed this morning, he was embarrassed as hell to say that was a little fuzzy.

"Ummmm I'm not too clear this morning did we..." He mumbled softly, regretting the words before they were even out of his mouth.

Summer blushed in embarrassment and humiliation. The best night she had ever had, and Captain Catholic boy here not only didn't remember it, but he was wallowing in guilt.

"Yes we did," she confirmed through clenched teeth. Tearing her gaze from his tortured blue eyes, she looked around for her clothes. She vaguely remembered them hitting the floor not far inside the stud's apartment door. Pulling the sheet from the bed, she stalked out to gather her clothes up. He was still sitting on the bed when she returned, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Look, Summer. I am very sorry about what happened last night. I do not usually..."

"I got the picture Bryce. One-night stands are not your normal thing. I apologize. I should have seen how intoxicated you were and realized that a man like you would regret it in the morning," she said clenching her jaw harder and trying to keep the tears from flowing. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" she asked knowing that as offensive as her stench was to her, he must be repulsed.

"I'm sorry. Absolutely. It's right through there." Bryce said quickly, remembering his manners. "I will get you some sweats and a T- shirt to wear," he called to the closed bathroom door.



"Summer, wait," Bryce said as the freshly showered woman gathered up her dirty clothes and headed for the door.

"I will drop your sweats and shirt by after I wash them," she replied as politely as possible.

"I'm not too worried about the sweats and t-shirt. Look...here's my phone number. If we had sex last night that I was too fucked up to do justice to, I most likely wasn't responsible enough to protect us. I was in a monogamous relationship for the last sixteen years and get tested for STD's all the time, just like you do, through work. That does not cover the possibility of pregnancy, however," he said seriously. A million smart ass comments popped to Summer's mind, but at the serious look on the mans face, she merely nodded.

"Thank you," she whispered, feeling the tears threatening again as she hastily scribbled her number down for him. For what, she wasn't sure, but it was seemingly the polite thing to do. She looked up to see his wallet in his hand and her face flushed an angry scarlet.

"If you try to hand me money I will knock you out," she hissed. Bryce looked stunned and his face colored as he scowled back at her.

"It's just cab fare," he ground out.

"I have money, but thank you anyway," she said proudly. Bryce sighed and stepped out of her way to let her disappear down the hall.


Walking back into his bedroom, Bryce pulled out a dress shirt and started buttoning it up over the plain white t-shirt. Stepping to the window, he watched as Summer stepped into a cab and felt another wave of guilt wash over him. He had handled this morning piss poor. Snapping his cuffs onto his belt, he strapped on his holster and looked on the back of the door for a suitable tie. Finally, grabbing his jacket and cell phone, he headed for the door. He needed to get to work. He would worry about his fucked up personal life later.

"~ His Pet ~ Chapter Six"