Criminal Activity

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Nick never got a message about the video he worked days and nights to get, not even any news on the case from Marc or the media. Somehow, this didn't bother him too much. There was the possibility that Marc simply had too much to do, but it was also possible that he wasn't doing anything about it and blew it off entirely. This didn't particularly bother Nick either. For once, it seemed Marc wasn't bitching at him to get him usable information or threatening him in one way or another. Nick went back to work, again dividing his time between work and his sister while still investigating the case himself. It was almost lucky for him that he hadn't heard from Marc because he hadn't been able to find anything else out.

It was evening, the sun setting behind the buildings. Nick's dark windows looked out upon the already dark sky. His phone buzzed on the bedside table, the blue glow of the screen lighting up the room. It vibrated a few times before Nick's hand emerged from the mass of a blanket on the bed to grasp it. His bed popped up from under the covers, eyes squinting against the bright screen. Immediately he grimaced, seeing who the message was from.

"Seriously?" The blonde groused and forked his fingers through his messy hair. "What? Who is it?" The blanket stirred beside him and Ethan emerged, sounding groggy. "Um.. Guy from work." Nick answered vaguely as he slapped the phone down on the nightstand. Ethan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What's he want now?" He asked. Nick had told him of Marc, his attitude, and his annoying texts. "He... wants me to come over?" Nick couldn't hide the question and skepticism in his voice. That was new and quite unexpected of the cop.

"So?" Ethan urged, obviously asking if Nick was going to go. Nick kicked the covers off and got out of bed, going into the bathroom to steal a quick shower. His friend just groaned in frustration and flopped back, pulling the covers over his face. "You're really gonna' go?" He asked from under the blanket. "What choice do I have?" Nick replied flatly as he pulled his clothes on. "Feel free to get out while I'm gone." He added, stuffing his phone in his pocket on his way to the door. He cut the travel time by nearly half by riding the skateboard he used to get around faster for work. He stood with one foot on one end, holding it fast almost upright, and knocked on the door.

"What's so important now?" Nick asked as the door opened.
 
Marcus opened the door with his cocky and confident smile, but it quickly died when he saw who was standing on the other side. «What the hell are you doing here?» he scoffed and frowned at him. This was not the Nick he was expecting. «Oh, fuck… wrong Nick,» he sighed as it hid him and rubbed his forehead a little in embarrassment. He should probably save their numbers with something more than just 'Nick'. Fuck-Nick and Work-Nick, maybe.

He tilted his head a little and looked him over. Well… Work-Nick didn't look that horrible, now that he thought about it. Marcus quickly shook his head a little to snapp out of it. No, he was not having sex with this Nick. He wasn't that desperate. «Sorry, wrong number,» he said and grimaced before glancing over his shoulder, into the apartment, and then looked back at the annoyed Work-Nick. Did he even know how to smile? «Well, now that you're here… Hungry? I was considering whipping up some dinner. And we could talk some,» he said and then held up his hand, chuckling a little. «I promise not to be an asshole, for once. And I have beer.»
 
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"You texted me?" Nick raised an eyebrow, initially surprised at Marc's reaction; however that surprise quickly made way for aggravation. He sighed about the "wrong Nick," which made Nick roll his eyes. It should have been obvious to him when he got the text that it wasn't meant for him. What would Marc want with him at his home anyway? He didn't even want him around at work. It didn't occur to Nick what exactly was going on until Marc mentioned having messaged the wrong number. His eyes widened a little and he looked away, pretending something else caught his attention despite there was nothing and no one around.

There were few people that Nick thought of in that manner, and Marc wasn't one of them. Ethan wasn't really one either; although, they slept together frequently. He didn't imagine Marc ever thought of him in that way, especially not with how the two acted towards each other. Wasn't there some sort of trope that applied to it? Nick blew this off, unable to remember what Ethan had called Marc's particular type. Briefly his mind began to wander and he slowly brought his attention back to Marc. He looked like a man of many lovers. "There's no way that would happen." He thought.

"Uh.. S-sure.." The blonde stammered, taken aback that Marc would offer such. If he thought it wouldn't piss him off, Nick might have asked Marc why or if he was up to something. He left the skateboard outside, to the side of the door, not concerned in the least that someone might take it. It was a little too beat up from years of use to be very appealing to a thief.
 
Marcus closed the door after him and locked it. «Make yourself at home. Look around if you want, I'm not really the kind of person who gives people a tour of their place. That always seems so awkward,» he sighed and headed for the kitchen corner.

Marcus's taste in interior was minimalistic. The less stuff he had around, the better. There were no pictures on the wall, and no decoration at all. Every surface was empty and clean, and there were no colors. White and black, and any shades in between, was the only colors he surrounded himself with.

The apartment was very modern, with an open solution. The only room that had walls around it was the bathroom, and the rest of the apartment was just one giant room. One part of the outer wall was covered with floor to ceiling windows, and he lived high enough up to get a nice view of the city. It was an expensive place to live, no doubt about that.

«So, any allergies?» he asked and opened the fridge, looking through it. It as packed with food, so there would be no problem coming up with a dish Nick could eat. And, if he might say so himself, Marcus was a good cook. Nick was in for a treat. «And do you want that beer, or something stronger?»

Having Nick visiting was something he thought would be weird, but he felt surprisingly relaxed about it. Finally someone he didn't have to show of for. Just eat some good food and drink some beer. It might even turn out to be a nice evening, even though it was pretty far from what he had originally planned.
 
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"Thanks.." Nick stepped just inside the door and watched as Marc closed and locked it, a strange feeling churning in the pit of his stomach. If he didn't know better, he would think that the door wasn't going to open again; but that was crazy. It wasn't like Marc disliked him enough to kill him, and if he did he surely wouldn't attempt it. "You're being stupid. He's just trying to be nice, even if you don't understand why." Nick told himself, putting his weariness out of his mind. He moved away from the door, looking around with curiosity and interest.

Apparently, Marc was a man of simple taste and very clean. It was clear of nick-knacks and decorations that made houses seem lived in and devoid of color outside of the gray scale. It was pristine and open, much nicer than Nick's abode could ever contrive to be. Nick felt scrubby and a bit self-conscious standing in Marc's home, like a flee-bitten stray standing in the shadow of a grand pure-bred. At least his clothes were clean, including his shoes.

"Ah, no allergies. I got lucky." Nick answered from where he'd stopped in front of the windows, admiring the view of the city. "Beer's fine. The only thing I don't drink is Vodka." He broke his gaze from the window and moved to lean against the wall on the edge of the kitchen area. "You never struck me as the cooking type." He confessed, tone lacking the usual sarcasm. Nick always imagined Marc was a four-star restaurant kind of guy who probably wouldn't even look at a take-out joint much less order from one. He himself wasn't a very picky eater and would try just about anything once.
 
«I guess there are several things about me that would surprise you,» he said and took out two beers from the fridge. He popped the corks off and handed him one. The beer was cool and sweet, and his mood jumped a few steps right away. After swallowing a mouthfull, he placed the bottle on the counter and started pulling ingredients out of the fridge. «I'll make us some pasta then, shouldn't take long.» Fresh spagetti, garlic, organic bacon, parmesan… While he started preparing the food, he glanced over at Nick.

«So how is work? And your sister? Val, was it?» he asked and started chopping the garlic with skilled movements. Since Marcus was so picky when it came to food, he mostly ate at home, so he had a lot of practice in making food. And he hadn't gotten any complaints on his food yet. He actually really enjoyed cooking, so if his parents hadn't been so pushy about him becoming a police officer, he had probably applied to cooking school.
 
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"I guess so," Nick agreed with slightly raised eyebrows, something between a smirk and a smile twitching on his lips. He took the beer with a nod of thanks and sipped it. It was a nicer brew than any he had tasted, which was more like bottled rocket fuel. It seemed that Marc spared no expense for top quality. Nick idled over to lean back against the counter where he wasn't in the way, or perhaps he was still keeping his distance out of uncertainty. Even he wasn't sure as to the exact reason.

"Work is work. I meet some pretty weird people though. Tal's fine, so she says. I haven't seen her in a bit, she had honor student business to take care of. She texts me a lot, though." The blonde answered, speaking his sister's name with slight corrective emphasis. If just for an instant, his voice carried a hint of disappointment. He opened his mouth to speak again and closed it, hesitant. "How's police work? Getting lots of cases?" Nick asked, decidedly avoiding to ask about their case. He chose instead to keep it simple and civil. He looked around a moment before he spoke up again.

"Do you have any family? You don't have any photos about." Nick wondered briefly whether it was a bad idea to ask this, but couldn't help his curiosity. He had at least a few pictures of him and Tal at home. It seemed strange to him not to have any pictures at all, though.
 
«Ah, Tal. Sorry,» he said and put the spagetti into the boiling water before looking towards him. «No, don't have any family. Or, I do, but… you know,» he sighed and shrugged, before he continued muttering, «No siblings do, luckily.»

«And yeah, work is good, I guess. Same old, same old,» he said and shrugged again, dropping the bacon into the heated pan. Work and family were probably the two things he liked to talk about the least, so so far Nick wasn't turning out to be a good visitor after all. But he didn't really blame him. Yet.

«So tell me about the weird people,» he said and turned to look at him again. «Of the record, if we are talking about weird people doing crime,» he said with a smirk. He picked up his beer and took another
 
Nick shrugged his shoulders and turned his face away. He felt awkward asking about work and family, though he only did so out of courtesy since Marc asked him. Family especially wasn't a topic he particularly liked to talk about either. He turned his attention to the windows a moment, trying to think of something else to say. Small talk was never one of Nick's strong suits; however, he would at least try to do his duty by a conversation. Nick faced Marc again when he inquired about the weird people he just mention.

"I'm not worried. It's not like I'm involved with them." He said with a sort of grin. "Where to start? I do get repeat customers, rather people or addresses I've delivered to before on one or more occasions. I don't often accept offers of food, water, or to enter customers' homes. The one time I did - well, the guy seemed nice enough. I'd made a few deliveries to him before. He said he was in the middle of something and asked me to wait just inside the door while he took care of it real quick. He disappeared into another room and I started to get the package out for when he came back. I must've waited nearly ten minutes before I called out and started for the door he went through. The room was all shelves, full of stuffed cats. I'm not talking toys, either! Taxidermy. Each had a collar - all his dead cats. He asked me if I liked them and took the package, which he opened. The fake eyes for the cat he was working on."

"I once delivered to a club. It was for the manager who I was told could be found in the back and to go on ahead. I found him sitting with a bunch of other guys around a table, drinking beer, and playing roulette. He tried to explain that the gun was a toy or something, but I gave him the box and bailed. I didn't want to stick around long enough to find out if it was or not." Nick made a face that could easily have been either pain or disgust as he recounted these events but he shrugged it off. "Of course, that's not the worst of it."
 
Marcus laughed at his stories, shaking his head. «And you're not gonna tell me the worst ones?» he asked, chuckling. He drained the pasta and then put it in a nice bowl, together with the cooked bacon. Then he added a jar of pesto and carefully mixed it all up.

«I've got some stories too,» he said and started to cut up some small tomatoes. «Since I work night shifts mostly, we see a lot of weird things. People who have been drinking or is high other stuff, always gets up to the weirdest shit. Once I had to chase someone dressed as a clown, and when I finally caught him, he dropped his pants. Of course they didn't wear any underwear… And he wasn't even hot!»

He shook his head a little and rolled his eyes. After adding the tomatoes, he got two plates and put some food on each. Then he topped it with some parmesan. «Dinner is ready. You need another beer?» he asked while he put the left over ingredients back in the fridge.
 
"I was merely illustrating the weirdness of some of the people I meet." Nick said simply with another shrug of his shoulders. It was strange to be able to talk about those things with someone; he didn't want to scare Tal with some of his stories and Ethan got bored too easily to listen for more than just a minute. There wasn't anyone else to talk about things with aside from his coworkers, who were much too busy working to stop and chat. Sometimes, they did get together for drinks and try to outdo the others' stories, but such times were few and far between.

"Ew.." The blonde wrinkled his nose at Marc's account of the clown. Nick personally hated clown's and would sooner beat one up than anything else. He could remember a couple encounters he had with clowns that ended badly. "I once delivered the drugs to a drug deal. That was probably one of the worst, since I had a gun pointed in my face. I lied to the guy about there being a confidentiality agreement for deliveries, so I wouldn't rat him out and he'd let me leave." He said, the relief of having narrowly escaped washing over him as it did each time he recalled that particular delivery.

"I'm good," Nick sipped his beer in response. The bottle was still decently full. He was pleasantly surprised by the smell of the food and that it even looked just as appealing. "Hope it's edible." He lightly poked fun.
 
«Wow, shit…» he said at the gun story. It did not sound like a pleasant experience at all. Not that he had any problem with imagining how it felt to have a gun pulled at you, but that shouldn't happen when you worked for a delivery company. Although, Nick's job wasn't that honest, if he had understood it right.

«If you want, I can put him in jail for you!» he chuckled and gave him his charming smile, and then shoved a plate towards him. «If you don't like it, I'll just eat it myself.» He then picked up his own plate and walked over to the couch, where he sat down with a happy sigh. Cold beer, decent food, someone to talk with - yes, this could be a good night.

«So,» he said while swirling some spagetti around his work. He glanced at Nick, with a teasing smile. «You usually respond to every random booty call that comes your way?» It was pretty obvious that Nick had no idea that Marcus text was a booty call, but that just made it even more funnier, he thought.
 
"How nice of you to offer," Nick mused as he took the plate and followed to the couch. He sat at the end of the sofa, leaving enough space between them for another person to sit. It felt odd to even be talking to Marcus like this, in such a candid way; so eating at his place and chatting like they were seemed surreal. Nick almost might have guessed he was dreaming but he rarely dreamed so vividly. Only once he settled into his seat did he take a bite of the pasta. His eyes lit up with surprise at the splendid flavor. Nick wasn't the artful cook himself, rather he was the one-pot cook.

"Ack!" Nick was taken aback by Marc's words, nearly choking on his sip of beer. He coughed and sputtered a minute before finally catching his breath, after which he shot Marc a flustered look. His cheeks were flushed with the faintest tint of pink. "What the hell! You mean that's what that text was?" There was frustration evident in his voice, but Nick mostly just looked embarrassed. He averted his eyes and continued to sip his beer if only so he wouldn't have to speak again. He went over the text in his head and started to wonder how he could have missed that in the first place. It seemed so much like something Ethan would say, yet he didn't put two and two together.

"Not usually, no." He said finally.
 
Marcus laughed out loud at his reaction, it was a lot better than expected. «Why else would I send you a text this late?» he chuckled and took another mouthful of spagetti. He made a satisfied sound and washed it down with some more beer. «But yeah, don't worry. That text was ment for another Nick… Will have to remember changing your names so I don't make that mistake again.» Or maybe just drop the other one. Fuck-Nick was getting a little boring anyway.

«Hope I didn't ruin your evening,» he said, and then shrugged slightly. «Although I doubt you were doing anything interesting. Don't belive you would drop something to come and see me.» It was pretty clear that this Nick didn't like him much, and Marcus didn't blame him. He was a little surprise that Nick had actually said yes to stay, but it was probably just the promise of beer that did it.
 
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Nick winced as Marc broke into laughter, though the only thing it hurt was perhaps his pride if anything at all. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense as to why he got a text that late at night. But what reason did Nick have to think that sex would be the reason when he and Marc clearly didn't see each other in that way? It just wasn't something he expected from any other person than Ethan; and it was perfectly logical to think that Marc had something work-related to tell him. There wasn't any specific indicators as to the intent of message, the context easily went either way.

"Gee, I don't know. Work maybe?" The blonde answered with more of a question than a statement. He ate pensively, a few minutes of silence between them before he spoke again. "Mm.. Nah. You didn't ruin my evening, but I do personally find sleep interesting." Nick smiled, albeit wryly. He'd only been asleep for a few hours when the text arrived to wake him. "Well, certain circumstances beg to differ. Just about the only thing aside from work I wouldn't drop - cause I can't always neglect to do my job - is Tal." He confessed with careful consideration. Of course, he would drop something if it would keep Marc from threatening him with jail. He couldn't always afford to skip out on work, but it said a lot of him to say his sister came before all else.
 
«Ah, yes. Tal. Got the impression you really liked her,» he said and smiled lightly. A feeling he had now idea what was like, at least not when it came to a sibling. Not that it bothered him, he doubted he was missing out on much.

«You were sleeping now?» he asked and checked his watch. «Oh, yeah. I guess it is a little late… Sorry, I get confused because if the weird hours I work.» He didn't have much of a sleeping rhythm, since he worked so many nights, and since he had problems with falling asleep. Fuck-Nick was supposed to help him with that…

«And yes, work…» He groaned and rubbed his forehead a little. «What a mess.» He didn't have much of a clue on what to do next, and he didn't really want to think about it either, but he guessed he didn't have much choice. It would be nice catching the guy and rubb it into his colleagues faces though.

«So that guy on that video is the boss of it all, you think?» he asked, wanting to make sure he had gotten it right. «Or just another one who knows the big boss?»
 
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"Well, she is my sister. Unless you mean.. you thought we were together?" Nick raised an eyebrow, unable to imagine not loving his sister. He remembered the day his mother brought her home, how in awe he was to see a baby. He also couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have grown up without her, how different things would have been. Of course, there were situations with siblings that weren't the best, but with the right situation, having a brother or sister could be a good thing.

"I wasn't asleep for very long, so it doesn't matter," He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He decided to leave mention of Ethan out altogether. "..No, I don't think he is. From my surveillance, he appears to have someone he answers to. I don't think he's very high up in their hierarchy, but I definitely think he knows who the head honcho is. Everyone in the group would, though they may not ever meet him directly." Nick hesitated a moment in thought, recalling his observations.

"I'm still working on it, trying to catch him in the middle of a deal or something he can actually be arrested for."
 
«No no, I knew she was your sister,» he said and chuckled. He was pretty sure Tal had mentioned at least five times how cool her brother was while they had had their little lunch. She might have used another word then cool, he wasn't really updated on the kids language these days. «I just thought people didn't like their siblings. But I wouldn't know, being a only child. I doubt I would have like them though, if I had siblings.»

«And good, sounds like you have everything under control then. Let me know if you need anything, or if there is something I could do,» he said, looking at him. They were after all sorta working on this together, so it only made sense for him that he would do some part of the job. «Maybe a better camera, those phone pictures aren't that good. I'll look at it tomorrow.»

He put his now empty plate down on the table and leaned back with his beer. «So, you liked the food? I didn't poison you!» he said teasingly, laughing a little. It seemed like Nick liked it though, but maybe he was just being polite. He hated that. Why couldn't people just be honest? «Just helps yourself to another beer or whatever. I got some new whiskey yesterday, if you want to try it.»
 
"Well, some don't. I guess it depends on the circumstances surrounding the family environment. Of course, even statistics can be wrong in those rare cases where the typical text-book situations don't apply." Nick said, recalling some of what the social worker had said those years ago. Natalia was her brother's biggest fan; though she knew little of his trouble-making and stints with the police. Even if she did know, he was always a good brother to her, so she would stand by him no matter what. Really, the only reason she was unaware was because of Nick's fears of her being taken away from him completely if her parents found out.

"Sort of.. I'm still looking into it." The blonde said with a little uncertainty. There was still a lot of work to be done before anything was under control. "I'll hold you to it," He nodded. At least, with a camera provided by Marc, he wouldn't owe Ethan anything for the use of his equipment. The pictures would also be of better quality than the ones taken on his phone.

"I ate it, didn't I?" Nick smirked, his empty plate on his lap. If Nick didn't like something, he wasn't likely to eat it unless he would starve if he didn't. This was not one of those cases. "I wouldn't have suspected it of being poisoned if you hadn't said anything. Now, I'm not so sure.." His tone carried a hint of skepticism and he narrowed his eyes; however, he was only kidding and so grinned in amusement. "Nah, I shouldn't, or I might drink it all. Skating is hard when you're drunk." Nick stood to take his plate to the kitchen, grabbing Marc's on his way. "Or is that another attempt to poison me?"
 
Marcus laughed and stood up, he too. «Just leave those in the sink,» he said and pointed to the plates while walking over to a cabinet. Pressing a button on the side, the doors opened and revealed a nice collection of liquor. Tequila, scotch, rum, vodka... He had it all.

«Have no one ever told you it's rude to say no when offered something?» he asked teasingly and grabbed a whiskey bottle, and two glasses. He smiled in Nick's direction and walked back to the couch. «Just please, don't make me open it alone, that will make me feel so pathetic,» he chuckled and put the glasses down on the table before he removed the seal on the cork, and then twisted the cork off. «A smal sipp won't hurt you.»

He poured just half an inch into one glass, and then a little more in the glass he took for himself. The whiskey was an expensive kind, probably best to save for a special occasion, but Marcus didn't care. If he wanted a nice drink of whiskey, he would have one - no mater the occasion.

«I'll tell you another funny cop story if you drink it up,» he said and leaned back with the glass in his hand, letting the golden liquid breath for a second before drinking any. «Oh, that gave me a major flashback to 'truth or dare' in high school,» he groaned, and then chuckled as he rubbed his forehead, trying to get a couple memories out.
 
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