Who Killed the Beatdown Beauty Queen?
or, Hayley's Psychedelic Trip Out
Written by Hayley
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, there was much debate over posting this, but someone asked us to kill Sheppard in the most painful way possible... so I did this. I decided I'd let you laugh or just pretend you never saw it :-).
WARNING: A completely unplausible story ahead. But you want pain and suffering to Sheppard, this is my story. It's sort of like one of those erotic thrillers that make you think the director was stoned or something. Like in the sixties they had those cheesy movies with vans and pot? Ah, never mind, you'll see. It's got death, it's got sex, what more could you want in a Homicide fic? A plot? Well you're screwed. Who asked you anyway? Right it off as an acid trip for all the hell I care...
The screams were horrifying. Loud and piercing. Mike fought to get in, but the door was stuck. He looked up and down the street, but the only ones there were a few old men on a stoop. He fought to open the door, and eventually pulled out a pick he had received from a friend. Sticking it into the brass lock, he pulled the 'trigger' and felt the lock slip open.
Opening the door, the screams only got louder. He went straight to the bathroom. That was where she always was. It was bigger then any room in her house, and full of hair products. Hair. That was her one love. By the look of it, her one love was being eaten alive by... by something.
"Mike!" She shrieked, grabbing at her head, scratching at it.
"Put it under some hot water," he tried, helpfully, afraid to come near.
"Are you crazy? Hot water will only ruin my perm! They're eating my hair!"
Mike cringed, hanging back. Her screams got more strained; the blood began to poor. She screamed until her voice cracked and she coughed blood, her hands still pulling out endless clumps of the mop on her head. He waited until she was reduced to a bloody clump, her ratty hair all over the floor around her. Spasms racked her body.
The horror, yet deep satisfaction from the pain that had been caused and due to her, caused him to back up slowly. He closed the front door behind him.
"Hey!" One of the old guys called from the stoops.
"Yeah?" Mike asked, ready to get rubbed down.
Mike's eyebrows raised, "Why?"
"For shutting her up. She was always yelling about somethin' you know. 'Bout her hair. I've seen drug fiends with nicer hair, at least the oil keeps it from frizzin' up."
"Right," Mike said in disbelief, sliding into the seat of his Explorer. A plan was already going through his mind.
Meldrick looked up and stared into steely blue eyes, hard, and nervous looking. He knew those eyes. He would know them anywhere.
"Mikey... what's up?" Lame, he thought immedeantly, very smooth Meldrick.
"I got to talk to you..." Mike whispered, looking around him nervously at all the detectives, each of which had noticed him by now and were looking his way. All of them, except a curiously absent Sheppard.
He got up and followed Mike back out of the squadroom, not bothering to explain himself to anyone. Yes, he would know those cool blue eyes anywhere; that and almost every other detail of his ex- partner/lover's body. God... he remembered *every* detail, and it embarrassed him to no end that he clutched desperately onto the memories of the too few nights. He probably knew Mike Kellerman's body better then Mike Kellerman did.
"Meldrick," Mike stopped and turned around. They were standing close together outside, just away from the door where uniforms and numerous people in suits were walking in and out.
"I..." he shifted uncomfortably and leaned against the red brick. He looked up again, meeting Meldrick's eyes and holding them. He recognized the far off look of deep thought, and he waited patiently for Mike to continue.
"I found Rene Sheppard's body," Mike answered at last, looking down and taking a deep breath.
Meldrick blinked passively, quickly trying to decide what to do. Act upset, sad even? Dodge Mike's questions and take the rest of his life off in Mexico?
"Yeah? Well, the rest of the squad was wonderin' where she was," he said stiffly, wondering what Mike knew and didn't know.
"And... I know it was you."
"It was me, what," Meldrick continued to play dumb. He searched the blue eyes that had risen to meet his. They were hard and cold, just like they had been the night he had broke it off between them. No tears, just cold understanding... like he knew it would happen all along.
"I know it was you," Mike straightened and took a step closer to get into Meldrick's face (God he did that so well, Meldrick thought), "who switched her hair spray for flesh eating bacteria cultures."
Damn, he did know. His brain flashed desperately trying to think of a plan. "Oh yeah?" Was the best he could do, at the moment. He crossed his arms defensively, feeling Mike's presence with every inch of his body. Smelling him, that clean scent and the soap he used- that they had used.
"Yeah, Meldrick, I came over and I found her. Head half dissolved... screeching like a bat out of hell." he shuddered, eliciting a non-voluntary response from Meldrick's groin.
"What makes you think it was me, Mikey?"
"The fact that I saw you leave her building right after I parked and got out. You know, if you hadn't been in such a hurry to get out of there, maybe you would have seen me."
I see you now, Meldrick thought not really caring that his 'higher brain' was on autopilot, and I like what I see.
"What are you going to do about it," Meldrick asked stiffly, then adding, "and why were you there anyways?"
"Come back with me, you got to help get rid of the body. I mean, if we just leave it there, someone else is bound to get eaten, or worse actually find out it was you."
The answer surprised Meldrick, and so did the instant lifting of atmosphere around them. He again found himself following Mike, and focusing on the jeans clad ass that peeked out from under the hem of a long sweater. He could really care less about the body, but Mike was right, how many paramedics in Baltimore knew what the symptoms of flesh eating bacteria were.
"I mean, at first I didn't know what was going on," Mike said quietly, starting up the Explorer, "I heard terrible screams... by the way, is this virus air-born, or only spread by touch?"
"Touch, man, what kind of fool do you think I am? I put it in the bottle, shook it up, and left it on the counter."
"Where did you get it anyway?"
"You ain't the only one with connections."
"Hmm," Mike hummed, pulling into traffic and heading towards Rene's house, "anyway, I heard these screams, "My hair! My hair, oh my God, my hair!"
"You never answered what you were doing there," Meldrick asked carefully, examining his nails as if it weren't important that the most obvious answer was that he was screwing her.
"I was... we were--"
"Lovers?" Meldrick asked stiffly, looking out the window and frowning.
"Hell no! Jesus, are you kidding me?" He looked back at Mike and sighed, "You arenít? You thought I would hop into bed with the nearest woman just because you didn't want me anymore? Well you're fucking wrong, and I could drive you right the fuck back to that squadroom and spill the fucking beans all over your chance for a partial pension!"
Mike raged, taking one hand off the steering wheel to reach into his pockets for cigarettes. Upon finding none, he yelled, "Fuck" and continued to drive. Meldrick sat in silence, watching the face tense and the bottom lip get sucked into the mouth and chewed upon before being released, all red from brutal teeth. Lewis could think of nothing more satisfying then reaching over and taking that lip into his own mouth, but Mike probably would throw him out of the vehicle. Looking out the window at the surrounding street, he decided that probably would not be the best thing.
"You know, I think you screwed me up that way," Mike finally said, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel.
"What do you mean?"
"Haven't fucked anyone since you..."
Meldrick had nothing to say to that. What could he say?
Well, that's your problem, not mine? Except, it *was* his problem. His bed had been empty since letting Mike go.
Empty, and sexual tension was not a good trait. Brought out the bastards in most men. Let's see, how about, let's pull over right here and fuck in this nice, big truck you have here Mikey? Only problem with that was that he still did not know where Mike stood with him. Probably no where good. Good being the level he could drag Mike back to his bed. Once you've got something, you've got to aim higher.
Mike pulled into the drive of the solitary rowhouse that Rene Sheppard used to reside in. He left the keys in the ignition, unlocked the back all in one swift motion.
Reaching into his glove department, his arm brushing against Meldrick's knees, and extracting two pairs of gloves.
Rustling around he brought out two more.
"Better double glove, just incase," he said, closing the department with a shove. Meldrick reached out and took the gloves from his hand, letting his fingers brush softly against Mike's. Mike froze before pulling his hand back.
Meldrick looked up, but the blue eyes refused to meet his.
Once inside the house, the coppery smell of blood filtered from the bathroom, which was located towards the front of the house. Mike slipped the gloves on and wrinkled his nose in disgust as he nudged open the door with his toe.
"Why'd you do it?"
"I'll tell you later," Meldrick said after a pause, "let's take care of this first."
"Fine. What do you want to do?"
"I think we'll have to burn her," Mike said noticing with a tinge of repulsion that the virus had spread from the head, to the tops of her shoulders and hands where she had scratched violently.
"Oh, that's my fireman Mikey," Meldrick said under his breath, extremely turned on, not knowing why and not caring.
"We need trash bags. I'm going to go get some," Mike said, looking unamused by the evasion. Meldrick nodded, continuing to look at the body, and unconsciously saying that this could not be happening. Here he was, with Mike Kellerman, covering up a murder. A murder! This could not happen, and yet, here he was. It was good though, to be near Kellerman again. Sheppard had deserved to die... at least, he had thought she did. Mike brushed past him holding a box of Hefty Tall Trash Bags, and his skin burned where they made momentary contact. If it weren't for the body getting eaten away on the floor, he would have pushed Mike against the door and go down on him... shag him somethin' ragged.
"So you're saying she screamed, huh?" Meldrick knelt, taking a trash bag from Mike and attempting to fit it over her head. Unfortunately, even with all the hair that had been eaten, there was still enough to have to make him reach down and stuff it into the plastic sack. Mike cut the bottom off of his with nail cutters(not clippers, cutters) and slid it up around the body, laying her hands next to her side.
Pulling a roll of duct tape out of a back pocket, he taped the two bags together tightly, going around the body (lifted with Meldrick's help) several times. Sighing, he went to cut the next bag and slip it around the body.
"I hope it was as painful as it sounded," Meldrick finished, looking up into the surprised blue eyes.
Mike leaned back and swallowed another gulp of Beam, wondering why Rene had had this in her liquor cabinet. More so, why she had *only* Jim Beam in her cabinet. He had taken it all though. Hell, can't waste fifteen good pints could you? He looked over at Meldrick, who was watching the fire with an evil smirk on his face. Mike had not believed it at first, but he knew it to be true when he saw the woman he once knew, writhing and twisting in agony. Her screams muffled only when her hair draped into her face. She had begun choking on it; she had been in such a panic. And then her voice had broken, and that's when she didn't scream at all. Only a breathy sound. He had just watched, morbidly fascinated by the eruption of sores on the 'fuckable' flesh.
The blood, of which there had been a lot of, pooled around as he watched.
He waited only until she stopped screaming, though she had still been jerking and spasms racked her body, only hearing a helpless whimper as he closed the front door behind him.
Straight to Meldrick. But he couldn't rat out Meldrick. Not when he didn't feel a sense of horror, loss, or wrong doing.
Was he stoned? Nope, but now he had one hell of a buzz.
Breathing in the smell, a choking smell of burning flesh, he coughed and looked back at Meldrick.
"Hey baby," he slurred, rolling onto his knees and crawling closer, "tell me why you offed her."
Meldrick looked at him, not amused by his drunken state.
"Only if you tell me why you didn't call the cops on my murderin' ass... baby."
"You really wanna know? 'Kay. S'cause I wanted ta see ya, had no 'scuse in the past. Couln't get up the... the..." he looked inquisitively up at Meldrick.
"Right," Mike smiled, "Courage... so I went, and here we are watching that bitch... burn. Burn, baby, burn."
He looked down at the pint in his hand, and, smiling, he threw it into the fire, hearing it break and a loud hiss erupt.
"This ain't like you, Mikey."
"What? Me bein' drunk, sure it is!"
"No, you hidin' the truth about somethin' like this...
well, almost not like you. Hell! This ain't like me, killing someone, but you know, I'm glad it's done. I'll get another partner, be able to start over. Don't have to listen to her whiny ass all day... I mean, I thought that no one could one up the Kellermiester with whiney-assedness but she took the fuckin' prize, sugar."
Mike pushed himself up high enough to sit with his head level with Meldrick's. His bleary blue eyes searched Meldrick's face, and a frown creased his face. Meldrick turned his head, seeing a flush on the pretty pale skin.
Could have been from the fire, could have been from the alcohol, but his overwhelming ego told him that was not the case.
"What," he asked softly.
"Kiss me," Mike whispered, leaning dangerously too far into Meldrick. Reaching up, Meldrick planted one hand on Mike's shoulder and one behind his head on the comfortable curve of Mike's nape. He leaned forward and planted his thirsty lips against Mike's hot ones. Instantly he could taste the forty proof alcohol that coated them. Licking it tenderly, he got to the real taste of Mikey... and there were no words to describe that taste. Good, perfect, sexy, Mikey- that was a start.
Enough with this though. It was too damned hot to be sitting there making out with their clothes on. Meldrick took the hand away from Mike's shoulder and wrapped it around his waist. The other hand left the soft, fuzzy nape and pulled at the hem of the sweater, lifting it an agonizing inch-by-fucking-inch. Mike found sudden strength and reached down, pulling the hem up and over his head and his arms out of the sleeves quickly. Throwing it to the side, unconsciously tossing it close to the fire, but not caring enough to interrupt what was going on between him.
"What if I told you *this* was why I didn't tell anyone?" Mike asked, sounding sobered. There was no need to answer that, except with a kiss, which is exactly what Meldrick did. His hands, now free of the task with the sweater, went to work on the thin cotton tee shirt. Not before he got a good look at Mike in it- sleek and fine with the material tight against him, showing every angle and curve and even two nipples poked up from the fabric. God, he missed this.
He was going to love it. And there was no one in the world better to break his celibacy with then Mikey Kellerman.
Pushing the fabric up, and letting Mike slip his arms out from the armholes and over his head. Mike laid back, his head resting in the dirt, looking up at Meldrick.
"Why'd you kill her Meldrick," He asked, one hand on Meldrick's shoulder, squeezing.
"Because," Meldrick leaned down, kissing Mike's ear tenderly before whispering into it, "I thought she was fucking you."
Mike smiled, pulling Meldrick closer and sighing contently.
He felt Meldrick pull away and reach for his pants, and he lifted his hips to accommodate him.
Mike woke up wrapped around Meldrick, with a crick in his back, and on the warm ground. The fire still smoldered near them, and he let himself survey it. All that was left of Rene Sheppard was a few bone fragments and a smell at the back of his throat that threatened never to leave. Mike tested his feelings... no remorse. Unlike Luther Mahoney, she had *never* done anything for the good of the world. Not one thing, except by lots of hair products and support the CEO's of shampoo companies. But even hair products harmed the environment with spray cans.
Even Luther Mahoney had done something for the community.
Built that cute little park, funded a youth center, and even attended a charity dinner for disadvantaged youth for five hundred dollars a plate. Mike knew Sheppard had never spent five hundred dollars on anything but her highlights.
Meldrick rolled over when he stood, mumbling. He stretched and pulled his boxers on, feeling grimy with the dust that had stuck to the sweat and semen. What a night. He smiled down at the sleeping man, deciding to pick out the bone fragments and bury them somewhere.
"Detective Lewis," Gee said, standing, "Are you telling me you have no idea what happened to Detective Sheppard, your partner?"
"Yes, sir. No idea whatsoever."
"You donít sound worried, Detective."
"Rene's a tall woman, she can take care of herself, I'm sure."
"May I go now, sir?"
Gee narrowed his eyes and looked Meldrick up and down.
Meldrick hoped that he had brushed the dust and dirt off, not to mention the cinders. He watched as Gee sniffed the air, and turned to the blinds. Pulling one down he looked out into the squadroom.
"I donít know what it was about last night, but everyone got laid. Bayliss is smiling in his tortured existence, Gharty doesn't have a hangover, Munch is... God forbid, Munch is smiling and at his desk at the same time."
"What about Ballard and Falsone," Meldrick asked, innocently, of course.
"They haven't reported in, yet. But I'm sure they'll turn up."
"I'm sure, Gee."
Mike smiled and waved at Meldrick as he tightened the ropes attaching his boat to the dock. The first thing Meldrick did was pull him up by the back of the sweater and kiss him hungrily.
"Hey, baby, I just got back. You know you were right, cinder blocks are in short supply. It took me a while, but finally I found a construction site with a few *really* heavy ones..."