Have you ever met someone who was so far gone there is no saving? As a cop I see it all the time, the junkies and hobos who either never stood a chance in life or took a wrong turn somewhere. The killers who show so little remorse you start thinking the death penalty isn’t that bad after all.

It’s not usually one of our own though, we always help each other out of those dark places of mind. Or so I thought, but Ericson apparently hadn’t.

The night had started slow in the detective’s den, a skeletton crew pushing papers and monitoring calls until everyone was so bored out of their minds we started wishing for some case to pop up on our radars. That’s probably the worst thing about this job, the fact that for us to feel alive and needed someone else has to suffer like no one should have to.

A call had come in, neighbor heard a possible shot inside an apartment above him and Moira and I took the chance to get out of the department, breath some fresh air and risk our lives a little to feel alive. Didn’t take long before that twisted sense of happiness turned into wordless disbelief.

Even without the blood and dead man on the floor the apartment looked as depressing as anything I had ever seen to that day, a couch with a cardboard box flipped around to a makeshift table, a bottle of beer and a couple half-cleaned coffee mugs in the kitchen, that was it. What a way to live, and what a way to go.

Moira came back in, the look on her face probably mirroring mine as we waited for the others to arrive. Looking around I couldn’t help but wonder where exactly things had gone so wrong for Ericson, and why I hadn’t even noticed something was off when he came into work.

„You ever got a whiff of this?“

Moira shook her head. „No, not at all. I mean, I didn’t even know he meant he was moving out from home when he talked about moving closer to work, did he say something about a divorce or something?“

„Not to me he didn’t.“

But that was obviously it, if anyone had been to his apartment at all it certainly hadn’t been a female or someone with an understanding of interior design.

My hand on her shoulder I steered her out of the apartment, there was no reason to look at that mess any longer. We would guard the entrance until the techs arrived, do our due diligence, but it was pretty obvious we wouldn’t be needed and that there would be no investigation.

When our boys and girls in white arrived the apartment filled with people but not words, everything was done in silence safe for the occasional command and camera shutter sound. A few more minutes passed before the Captain arrived, looking like one too many dead bodies himself. But then that was understandable, he’d probably been closest to Ericson and it must have hurt even more than for the rest of us.

He joined us in leaning against the wall, silently waiting.

„I’m sorry Cap.“ One of these hollow sentences, but you have to go through them like complaining about the weather and asking how someone’s kids are doing.

„Yeah, me too. What do we know?“

Moira leaned forward a little,

„Still waiting for the techs to finish up, but from what we can see the door was locked, no signs of anyone else around.“

„Yeah, I figured.“

I couldn’t help my curiosity. „You knew him better, didn’t you?“

„I knew he was going through some shit at home, but that’s not something to kill yourself over, now is it?“

I nodded, both to answer the question and in the direction of the apartment. „Wait till you see the inside.“

„Why’s that?“

Moira leaned forward again. „There’s a couch and a flipped over box for a table, nothing more. It’s like he just moved in, but it’s been months since he told us about having a new place.“

The captain scoffed. „You know, that doesn’t surprise me. It’s just like him, he never cared for all the fluff. You know he lived in a camper the first three years after he got out of the military?“

„No, when I joined he was happily married and all about that family life.“ That was true, the Ericson I had known had thrown garden parties every other weekend, one of the few I ever attended because there was no shortage of cynical loners on a party full of cops, but with that little twist of happiness we all need from time to time.

„Yeah, getting married changed him a lot, but then in a way it didn’t. He had this small workshop, spent all his time there building god knows what, the rest of the house really was for his wife and kids. God, I need to tell them.“

„Technically we’re the investigating officers.“ As much as I didn’t want to I felt obliged to offer.

„Yeah, no chance. I’ve known him – and them – forever, let me talk to them. You two go home after we’re done here.“

Before any of us could answer Louise, head of our tech team came out. I’ve always liked her, one of these rare people that can be totally calm while looking at blood and violence, but without becoming hostile to normal everyday life. Pretty much perfect for the job, and good at it too.

„Cap, I’m sorry. Sal, Mo, what a fucked up nigh eh?“

„Lou, I wish I could say good evening. You done in there?“

„Yes, not much to say really. Everything points to suicide, more sinister even we found five rounds in his right pocket.“

That was just what we all needed, a way to make the night even more depressing. But that’s just how life is, if everything runs smoothly for once you start getting bored, then shit starts piling up until you are about done with it, then it goes back up again for a party and then back to boring again. God knows I never wanted a stable life or mental state and I guess nights like that are the trade off for living lives worth talking about.

„Fuck, I guess his family doesn’t need to know that detail. Listen you two, you get home now, no reason to stick around. We’ll finish up here.“

Can’t say we hesitated much, the night air welcoming us as we made our way for the car. The worst about cases like this isn’t so much losing someone you knew, but realizing you could well be next. We all fight our own demons and, have our own twisted ways to feel alive and the difference between him and us was frighteningly small.

We tried to start a conversation several times, failing to come up with topics with both of us lost in similar thoughts. Moira’s place came up quick, just a couple minutes and a few dozen red lights away. I’ve always loved driving at night, the colours are so much more vivid and the contrasts that much stronger.

As we rolled up to the curb in front of her apartment complex I hoped Moira wouldn’t invite me up for a drink because I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist. As she looked at me I knew I wasn’t so lucky.

„Wanna come up for a drink? I really don’t feel like being alone tonight.“

„Oh I don’t know, Moira.“ Last chance.

„Come on Sal, don’t be like that. A drink won’t hurt you.“ Chance gone.

Her place was playfully chaotic, my jacket haphazardly thrown over a chair fit right in with the open books, empty coffee mugs and random bits and bops everywhere. It was as if she made a conscious effort to make the place appear both livable and lived-in, quite the novelty in times when everyone tries to make them bland and overly clean.

„Do I pass the inspection?“

I smiled apologetically. „I’m sorry, it’s just, I don’t know, cute is what it is.“

That it was, like an extension of her personality that was so opposite of all the tryhards. She never tried to use her body to her advantage – or hide it for that matter, never tried to impress and was impressively good at it. Just like I suddenly had a beer in my hand without being asked what I wanted, Moira wanted a beer and so I got one too. Not that I would complain, oh-contreh as the French fucks say.

„That your way of saying chaotic?“ Our bottles clinged together and she pointed for the couch.

„It’s my way of saying it’s comfy, makes you feel at home.“

„Well, make yourself at home on the couch, I’ll be right with you.“

Said couch was one of these L shaped things with the extension pulled out to make it a square, really more of a pillow island and pretty much the girliest thing in the whole apartment. Even had a couple pink fluffy pillows in addition to the brown, beige and grey ones of all shapes and sizes.

Before I had a chance to get lost in further investigation of the place Moira was back, only lacking the leather jacket and worn base cap she never lacked. Looked every bit as menacing though, dangerously easy to get the wrong ideas.

Moment later she was on the couch, a lot closer than decency and professionalism allowed. I’m a loner – always have been – so feeling her leaned against me with her arm around my neck and her breast pressed against my arm was several steps out of my comfort zone already. Always had a much easier time dealing with people who hate me.

„Just a drink, huh?“ We both took another sip, smiling into our bottles. It was a game we both played willingly, only the rules were still to be determined. And whether we were winning or losing it.

„Oh come one, you knew that was a lie from the start. It’s like a hostage situation, you establish neutral ground and then go from there.“

„And who’s the hostage in your scenario?“

Moira leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder. „I guess that’d be me because I want you to hold me.“

Couldn’t help but chuckle at that, so bad it was good again. So dangerous to feel safe in her presence, I should have known.

„Oh come on.“

„Hey, that was a good one, admit it.“

„Eh, seen worse, seen better.“ But she was now in my arm and apparently there to stay. By then it didn’t take a genius anymore to see the downward spiral we were on, but we were both dragging it out. I ran my fingers through her hair, but didn’t go further until we had emptied our beers and even then I kept it semi-safe and she didn’t ask for more.

Another beer later things looked different, not that we were even remotely drunk but we could act like it, plausible deniability in the morning and the neutral ground had obviously shifted.

Distance is a funny thing, a face and the top button of a blouse are just inches apart but crossing that short jump takes a stupid amount of effort and even while I did I was still wondering if I really wanted to.

Not that she wasn’t beautiful, she definitely was in that way where she looked incredibly sexy even in her depressed, vulnerable state but I just had that nagging feeling of having something rare and valuable and not feeling adequate for it, like someone had stuffed me in an expensive tailored suit and put me at the wheel of a one-off Bentley worth millions.

That feeling was gone though the moment I touched her skin, she was very much real and better yet diverse and interesting. I’m admittedly part chauvinist part paranoid and I find the majority of women either deceiving or bland and boring, but Moira was neither of those. If I had to describe her in just one word it would be honest, from her behavior to the slight chaos of her apartment that to the fact her body had all those interesting little nicks and features. Her left breast was a little smaller, her skin pale, sunburned and freckled depending on where you looked and she wore a little chain around her neck with a lizard pendant that looked like it had a story behind it.

That was another thing about her, she wasn’t one of these women where you have a hard time finding a conversation topic, she was the protagonist of her own story and not a sidekick of her husband or whatever. There probably was a story behind that almost invisible scar on her arm, the wolf buckle of her belt that looked old, almost antique and her girly pink panties that were black boxer shorts you could just as well find in my drawer.

She was also strong, even fully naked she looked like she could put up a fight and I let my fingers run along muscles instead of a fragile structure, even if her mental state was definitely fragile that night. Not always a bad thing, not when it gets you a view like that.

Even then the look in her eyes was taunting, not so much begging but rather a show-me-what-you got, but then I knew this was a fight I could win without her losing it.

It’s all a matter of imbalance and bringing them out of their comfort zone, both physically and mentally. With her ass resting in my lap I pulled her head down a little, careful not to be too careful with her hair while my left hand wandered down until it found her lips.

In a way it was just like interrogating a suspect, you poke and feel and see what works and then do more of that until you get your desired results, looking for those little signs and tells on your way in. Arguably it’s much easier when you have the suspect in your hands and she’s already naked and no one suspends you for getting a little physical. Much easier to work with softened detectives than hardened criminals, even if cracking either feels just as rewarding as the other.

Everyone is different under pressure, some need to be pampered and finessed while others need a little tough love and Moira was certainly not asking for any finesse. Her body was strangely limb and tense at the same time, each thrust of my fingers reverberating through her muscles.

A moment later she went limb as if letting the air out of a balloon, sprawled over my lap and the couch with weird twitches running through her and a long sigh escaping her lips. I let my finger stay in her, twisting them slightly until her breath had calmed again, then let them run over her stomach following the contours of her body and leaving shivers in their wake.

Her eyes were closed, a wry smile distorted her face and I could watch her fall asleep faster than I have ever seen anyone else. I had this weird idea to get out from under her, make it a bit more comfortable for the two of us but soon realized I wouldn’t be able to. Not without waking her up and if I’ve ever seen someone in dire need of some peace and sleep it was her.

And so I slowly fell into a light intermittent slumber myself, watching the light of passing cars through the half-open blinds and listening to the occasional siren whenever I woke up.

The next time I opened my eyes I felt fingers running over my chest, following the wrinkles in my shirt until I looked down into the most relaxed smile I had ever seen on her face. As soon as Moira was sure I was awake the finger poked into my chest.

„You know you could have kept me awake?“

„You looked like you needed it. The sleep I mean.“ The darkness around us was quite welcome, these little sex jokes work so much better when everyone is dressed. She laughed regardless.

„That I did. You are a much better person than I deserve, but don’t think you’ll leave here without me repaying the favor.“

I chuckled, hearing her talk like that cracked me up for some reason. „We should catch some sleep.“

Moira wasn’t having that one bit, up and sitting on top of me a second later. Still can remember her lips on mine, not something you forget easily. That naked body in my hands, the ease with which she pushed me down until I was flat on my back. How a minute before I hadn’t thought much about sex and there I was rock hard as she fumbled my belt open and pulled my pants down to my ankles. Didn’t need any further undressing, what I – we – needed was her on my dick. As tired as I was she was fully awake and the look in her eyes had changed, something between caring and devious. I think what I loved most about her was how much I felt at ease. None of this typical awkwardness of sleeping with someone for the first time, nor the need to prove anything. I knew I was going to come quick, she knew and she rode me hard fully aware of it.

But then all of a sudden she came again, seemingly out of nowhere and she was forced to slow down her hips while a heartfelt laugh escaped her, almost embarrassed. „Oh god, I know it’s not fair but I need a moment.“

I wanted to say something, but then I didn’t and together we waited and enjoyed the short eternity before she began moving again, much slower and with a strained expression in her eyes. I pulled her in for another kiss and it seemed to never end, our lips only disconnecting when the force of my thrust threw her forward an inch or two. There was a hint of complaint in her surprised moan and she tried to press me down, really wanted to finish me off riding as it seemed. Well, she had had her chance, I pushed her to the side until I had her back in front of me, guiding my dick into her before I was balls deep a second later.

Weirdly enough it was only then I realized what a grabbable ass she had, like the rest of her body it was on the very edge to being a little too muscular but a perfect fit for my hand. Moira held onto me and I thrust away, careful not to hurt her. That chick could take a pounding though, and she could beg in a language that was decidedly not ladylike.

I have this weirdly short timespan between I-could-go-on-like-this-forever and my whole body exploding and I felt it was just about time. I guess I could have come inside her but I wasn’t sure so I pulled out. Definitely the reason, not that stupid masculine desire to splatter her whole ass in cum and have it run down her sweat-soaked skin into the sheets, definitely not. I hadn’t come in like a week or so and it showed, my balls unleashing a torrent of hot, sticky cum. We rolled over, me on my back and Moira on her stomach so I had a good look at the carnage I had caused as I waited for my dick to stop twitching.

With one eye open Moira lazily turned her head over for the last kiss of the night.

„Now we can catch some sleep.“

I hope you enjoyed the read, part two is in the works 🙂 There’s an email list signup thing in the bottom right if you want to be notified when I’m done.