Criminal Activity

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As told, Nick set the plates in the sink, turning to watch Marc open the cabinet as he did so. There was a plethora of liquor, a variety Nick had only ever seen in a bar. His face clearly showed his surprise; he was nearly so dumbfounded that he didn't hear what Marc said at first. Nick swallowed hard and went back towards the couch, eyeing the two glasses as he sat back down. "One sip won't hurt me, I suppose." He thought and picked the glass up.

"Oh, a dare-devil are we?" Nick smirked a little. It was hard to imagine Marc making trouble or doing something stupid like other kids, but supposed that everyone did at least one dumb thing. It made him curious to hear what Marc did. He sure had some tales to tell himself, being the adventurous sort as a teen. He always took the dare and was lucky enough to have never gotten caught. Nick took a sip of the whiskey. "Damn," He gave a satisfied sigh. It was superb, the kind of good stuff that Nick would get drunk on if and when he got the chance to drink something good. It was definitely tempting and he had to remind himself of his trek back across town.
 
«Well, I never picked truth, if that's what you mean,» he said with a light chuckle. There was little he didn't dared to do when he was still in school, something his friends had taken advantage off. They had gotten into all sorts of mess, and his father had to use his money to get him out of trouble more than once. It was kinda a surprise that he was accepted into police school after all the stupid shit he had done. He never acted stupid on his job though. He hated it when people didn't take the job seriously.

«Good, right?» he asked when Nick had tried the whiskey. Marcus was already halfway through his glass. «Guess I better start remembering a good story from work then. Already told you the clown one…» he said, thoughtfully. Rubbing his temple, he thought for a couple seconds before he started laughing. «Oh fuck, now I know. Ever heard of police arresting a ghost?»
 
"Ahaha! I never imagined you'd be the type to do something stupid." Nick laughed. It was surprising to hear that Marc would ever consider playing a game like Truth-or-Dare. He seemed more like a stick in the mud who would watch from the sidelines. "I don't suppose you ever got caught then? Or maybe you just didn't do anything illegal?" He inquired with new, piqued interest in the man. Nick had played the game many times with friends and was never one to pick truth himself.

"I once took a dare to ding-dong-ditch an older guy on my street. He was kind of crazy, so of course he was the one we all decided to mess with. It had snowed and he'd been outside shoveling the snow from his driveway and path, so his yard was full of piles of snow. 'Ran up, rang the bell, and threw myself into the snowbank just off the porch. Did that like three times, and he came out swinging his shovel and cursing. He never found me, and I was right there. It wasn't anything truly foolish, but it was the funnest." He said, nodding at the mention of the whiskey. He noticed that Marc already drank half of his glass and wondered briefly about his tolerance of alcohol.

"Pfft! What? You believe in ghosts?" Nick raised an eyebrow in skepticism and humor. He didn't particularly believe in the paranormal; however, he had never experienced it first-hand.
 
Marcus laughed at his story and finished his wiskey, shaking his head a little. "I did a couple things that were sorta in the gray area... Like, we broke into school at the middle of night once, and we got caught. But since we didn't break anything we were let off easily. Plus, having rich parents always helped," he said and grimaced slightly at the last part. "Anyway, guess I'm not the boring person you thought I was. It's mostly just on work were I act serious..."

He poured a little more into his glass, while feeling how the wiskey started to warm up his body. He had to be careful now, or he would quickly end up getting too tipsy, which he hated. Being tipsy was one thing, but when he started getting drunk it was just annoying.

"And no, I definitely do not believe in ghosts," he said and laughed again. "We got sent to a house once, because a woman had called in and said someone had broken in, and they were still there. So we arrive kinda expecting the worst, but it quickly turns out no one was there. Apparently a ghost had broken in, and she wanted us to arrest it for trespassing. The woman was clearly crazy, and not knowing what else to do - because there was no way of convincing her that ghosts don't exist, and she was definitely not letting us leave- we pretended to arrest this ghost. We used the cuffs and walked it out to the car and everything. The woman was very greatfull."
 
Nick didn't say anything in regards to the mention of Marc's parents, not that there was anything to say. He figured Marc came from money; he seemed to exude it, most obviously in his taste in liquor and his home sense. It made him think just how vastly different the two really were, as Nick came from very little. The only similarity he detected, minute as it was, was that both he and Marc seemed to have a dislike of speaking about their families. At least, that was the impression he got when Marc sneered at the idea of siblings and from his expression a moment ago. Eyeing the glass a moment, Nick set it down on the table and turned so the whiskey was no longer even in his line of vision. He wondered briefly how much Marc intended to drink, though.

"Man, she must've been smoking dope." The blonde shook his head. He couldn't imagine anyone in their right mind actually believing there was a ghost in their house. It seemed more to him like she was intoxicated, maybe even hallucinating. Of course there was always the possibility of her being a little of her rocker. "It sounds like something-- s-someone I used to know would have done." Nick spoke, pausing in the middle of his sentence and quickly amending it. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and pulled it out to silence it. It was Ethan, likely just wanting to know what was going on. Before the screen went dark, he caught a glimpse of the time. It was early in the morning, though still dark out.

"I didn't even realize how late it is. I should probably go, don't want to keep you up all night."
 
Marcus looked at Nick's phone, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. «Something that craves your attention? Or someone…?» he asked with a slightly teasing smile, but quickly shrugged it off and sat up straight. Then he cleared his throat and brushed his fingers threw his hair. «Sure, go if you want to, but don't worry about me. I probably won't sleep for another couple hours.»

He downed the rest of the whiskey and then eyed the bottle a little before putting his glass down, deciding he had had enough. It was probably best not to overdue it, he already felt a tipsy enough. Besides, the last thing he wanted was to get drunk and make a fool of himself in front of Nick. It probably wouldn't do their little work relationship much good, if Nick lost any of the little respect he had for him now. Pluss, he didn't want to wake up with a hang over. As if going to work wasn't bad enough without one.

«I'll get that camera sent over to you tomorrow then,» he said as he stood up from the couch. First he put the whiskey back in the bar, and then he walked over to the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of cold water, followed by some ice from the fridge. He then fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. Was it too late to call someone else? He needed something to do if Nick was leaving. Working out or cleaning, his usual go to, wasn't that tempting now, and probably not a good idea anyway since he had been drinking.
 
"Oh, I.. er.. It's not important." Nick muttered, quickly shoving his phone back into his pocket. He was a little embarrassed, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like there was anything embarrassing about getting a text from a needy, pain-in-the-ass best friend. There wasn't anything special to see, just a mundane text message. He tried to brush it off, but found it increasingly difficult with his phone vibrating constantly. "Dammit, Ethan!" He thought, rolling his eyes. When he looked at his phone again, the message was from Mel.

"Sure. I've got time so, ya know, I'll be around." The blonde shrugged his shoulders as he stood from the sofa and started towards the door. For a moment he paused, opening his mouth to speak though he wasn't sure exactly what it was he wanted to say. "I have to admit, you're alright when you're not being a douche. Maybe you should try it more often; we might actually get along." Nick flashed a brief, amused grin and picked up the skateboard he left outside the door. That was the best show of gratitude his pride would allow yet. He wasn't entirely ready to admit he was even just a little bit wrong about Marc.

Nick walked a ways, pulling his phone from his pocket to check his messages before mounting the board to skate home. He climbed back in bed when he got in, happy that he could sleep since Ethan had left. In the time before he fell asleep, he conversed with Mel about the case. He ended up not waking until the next afternoon and went to meet her. She said that she saw the guy again that night and that she had new information.
 
Marcus woke late after finally falling asleep, and went straight to work the night shift later that day. So it wasn't until the next day that he managed to get to a camera store. He took his time there, listening to the salesman yammer on about all the technical stuff and different models they had. Very little of it made sense to him, but he made sure to get the best and something that would work for Nick. A good quality camera with a zoom lense that took good photos no matter how light or dark it was.

The price for it all surprised him. How could a camera be that expensive? But ,he didn't pay it much mind and swiped his card before receiving the bag. The plan had been to get it delivered, but he soon realized he didn't know Nick's address. He knew on what street he lived, he had been there after all, but he had no idea what the number of the building was. And what was Nick's last name again?

So, he decided to deliver the camera himself, not wanting to risk it ending up in the wrong hands. He doubted the rest of the building inhabitants cared any more about what was right and wrong than Nick did. Plus, it would give him a nice walk, so hopefully he would be able to fall asleep at a more normal hour this night.

Finally arriving outside Nick's door, he wrinkled his nose before lifting his hand and knocking at it. He had forgotten how dirty the building was. Or, more like suppressed it. He hoped Nick hadn't brought flees or something into his apartment the night he had visited… Maybe he should by a new couch, just to be safe.
 
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"So, he just agreed to get a camera? No exchange of money or.. anything? Just like that?" Ethan persisted skeptically from his spot on the sofa. He wasn't watching the television, though it was turned on. He had his cocked back to look over the back of the couch at Nick. "Pretty much. I mean, he can be a douche, but he's not you." Nick snickered, at which Ethan rolled his eyes and turned away, annoyed. The dark-haired photographer was surprised when his friend told him he wouldn't require any further use of his camera at all. When he inquired as to why, of course, it seemed the "guy from work" had something to do with it.

"I don't know what your problem is" Nick leaned back against the kitchen counter, bottle of beer in hand. "I don't get what your problem is! You bitch about this guy then you go doing all this shit for him!" Ethan argued with a scoff. The blonde raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging his lips up at one corner. "Oh~ Do I sense some.. jealousy? Is that why you're being a pissy little girl, hm?" He couldn't hold back his laughter now as he teased. Ethan only responded with a brusque "Shut up." Nick's laughter ceased when there came a knock on the door. He set the beer down on the counter and went to answer.

"Oh, hey. What's up?" Nick had to fight off a laugh when he saw Marc at the door. It was too ironic that he should show up when he was at the center of a conversation. He stood shirtless, leaning against the door frame; his damp hair was a shade paler than butter-yellow. "Shut the door, it's drafty." Ethan called from inside. "Shut your face." Nick shot back; however, he stepped to the side to let Marc in so he could shut the door. The apartment was definitely cleaner, aside from the clothes on the floor around the couch.
 
An eyebrow raised in surprise at the sight of the shirtless Nick. He didn't look half bad. Not that he would ever admit that out loud. Beside, he was a bit too skinny.

"What's up…" Marcus repeated as he stepped inside and shook his head slightly. Kids. He held up the plastic bag with the camera equipment and was about to hand it over just when his eyes landed on the stranger on the couch. "Who's that?" he asked and pulled the bag back. No way he was handing over something worth several thousand dollars when a stranger was watching. Even though he had insured it, it would be annoying if it got stolen right away.

While he waited for an explanation, he let his gaze wander over the rest of the room, wrinkling his nose a little. There was a slight improvement, but he still felt an ich to give the place a real scrub down. How anyone could live like this was beyond him. If his place had been this dirty, he had never been able to focus on anything but it. No wonder Nick never got any work done.
 
"What're you--?" Nick was about to ask what Marc was even doing there when he asked about Ethan. He raised an eyebrow and turned to look over his shoulder, as casually as if Ethan's presence was so commonplace that he no longer noticed him. Ethan still sat, sulking on the sofa, his arms crossed over his bare chest. His left arm was covered in a tattoo that partially covered his shoulder and chest. He said nothing and didn't look at the two. "Oh, that's just Ethan. Don't mind him." Nick said with a perfunctory shrug. This prompted Ethan to scoff, stand up from the couch, and leave the room muttering, "I don't have to take this shit."

"So, what're you doing here?" Nick asked on the backwash of the bedroom door closing. He looked down and saw the camera in the bag then blinked in surprise. "Oh, nice camera~" The blonde nodded in approval, "'Funny cause we were just talking about it." This was said with Nick's typical nonchalant attitude, like being told one was being talked about wasn't awkward and potentially insulting. He beelined around Marc into the kitchen where he picked up his beer.

"He's been quite the sore loser about my not having to borrow his camera anymore. It seems he's jealous of you." Nick sipped the rest of his beer.
 
"Jealous?" Marcus repeated while eyeing the couch. It certainly didn't look clean, but he had walked a good distance and his legs were tired. So he took his chance and sat down. He would have to shower when he got home anyway. "So he's your boyfriend then?" he asked with a sigh and looked up at him. He didn't really know why he asked, he didn't care who Nick was dating.

"You better not break that, it was fucking expensive," he said and nodded towards the camera. "It should suit your needs, hopefully get me some of the information you keep promising…?" He ended it with a questioning look, an eyebrow raised slightly. "Don't happen to have anything new for me now, do you?" Something good for a change, he hoped. So far this deal hadn't done him much good, just cost him money. Except for catching that drug guy, but he hoped that was just the beginning.
 
"'Boyfriend?'" Nick repeated, bursting into laughter. He laughed so hard that he almost fell on his butt and it took him a minute to catch his breath enough to speak again. "No no no. Ethan's not my boyfriend; we just hook up on occasion." He said with a shrug of his shoulders. It didn't occur to him in that moment to wonder why Marc even asked or whether or not he really cared to know. Nick sat on the arm of the couch, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"What? After all this time you still don't trust me?" The blonde feigned innocence with a sad, puppy-eyed look. After a moment, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Give me a little more credit than that. I can take care of a camera if nothing else." It was a bit aggravating that Marc seemed to return to the usual banter, but he didn't comment on it. "Well..." Nick stood from the sofa to retrieve his phone from the kitchen counter.

"I saw Mel. She spent another night with our dealer and managed to get some information off his phone when he fell asleep. She sent it to me; I'll forward it to you. It's the guy's name and workplace with a photo she took. It's not too great, I'm afraid, since she took it in a mostly dark room without the flash on, but I'm working on getting a proper visual. Of course, you could always have Forensics clean it up." Nick scrolled through his messages to the one in question and sent it to Marc. "Don't say I never do anything for you." He joked.
 
Marcus frowned, wondering why it was so funny that he asked if Ethan was his boyfriend. People had boyfriends, right? "Well, lucky you then," Marcus muttered, which he obviously didn't mean. Ethan was not someone he would ever hock up with, so he was far from envious. Tattoos was such a turn off.

"I'm just saying it was expensive," Marcus said and rolled his eyes slightly at how easily offended Nick got. Typical… He checked his phone when he got the message, scrolling down to the picture. "Not much I can do with this though. Need something to tie him to these drugs, right? Can't really arrest him for sleeping with some whore."

He walked around the living room as he talked, looking at all the stuff lying around. It was so messy compared to his own place, and his skin crawled thinking about all the dust that was probably hiding everywhere. "I need to get out of here," he sighed and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. Home to shower. "Unless there is anything else you want to discuss?" Like his poor choice in clothes.
 
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