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Bennett | Devon
Heart Attacks Galore
Thu Jan 19, 2006 02:31

Now that he had had the chance to stretch his fingers and ease the dust bunnies from his voice box, Bennett was having a remarkably good time. Which was odd, considering he was alone.

Usually, when left to his own devices, he sought out a few like-minded friends, and jam out in the garage for a few hours. There was, inevitably, a pretty girl ready and waiting to hang all over the drummer at the nearest opportunity. So he definitely hadn’t been hurting for companionship; even if it amounted to tumbles in the backseat of a car. Or if he was feeling really daring, borrowing a friend’s room for a few hours.

But now, he was happy to hear nothing except the music he created. It was a good feeling, not quite the sensation of loneliness, but accomplishment on one’s own. It had a silly little smile playing about his features while he toyed with the keys, pondering what song to go about with next. Ah! That was it.

The song itself was… interesting, as one professor had put it. In the key of E, which involved way too many sharps for most people’s liking, it relied upon only a few chords throughout most of the piece. The monotony was broken by alternating scales when not in the chorus. Hell, it sounded trite quite often, but he happened to like this song, thank you very much. And since no one was around to complain, he’d happily play it for the audience of none.

I never understood before
I never knew what love was for
My heart was broke, my head was sore
What a feeling

Tied up in ancient history
I didn’t believe in destiny
I look up you're standing next to me
What a feeling

His family likely would have laughed at the lyrics, considering he was the youngest. What would he know about love? Especially if it wasn’t angst-ridden and overly melodramatic. Well… They had a point, when giving a nod to society’s view of his generation. But Bennett strove to be different, something outside the cookie-cutter pattern that so many of his acquaintances fell into. Hell, sheer size cut him right out of the equation. Maybe he was John’s brother, and adopted into the family.

What a feeling in my soul
Love burns brighter than sunshine
It's brighter than sunshine
Let the rain fall, I don't care
I'm yours and suddenly you're mine
Suddenly you're mine…

Playing out the last few chords, the smile gradually lessened, pressing one pedal to hold that perfect harmony for just a moment longer. That was what music felt like to him, water slipping between his fingers. Sometimes he was afraid that if he didn’t write down the notes or words when he thought of them, they’d be lost forever. Sure, people ribbed him for that ratty notebook he always carried around or a handful of napkins when they were at the diner one late night. But he didn’t care. Couldn’t worry about what they thought. It was a driving need in him. Thankfully there were people that could understand.

“That was great. Here, try this one. You and me…”

What the hell?!

Bennett’s hand nearly came crashing down onto the keys when… This is just a bad dream. Because I know I’m about to make an ass of myself in front of Laramie Sorensen! Oh God. But she was… smiling? Really smiling, if the hint of red in her cheeks meant anything. Scooting over when the woman decided to take a seat at the bench, he quirked a brow.

It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The Regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin' love to his tonic and gin

The first verse Lara managed on her own, because Bennett certainly couldn’t find a voice to match hers. Or any voice, for that matter! Eventually he regained his footing, and even managed a smirk at the woman. One hand moved up the piano an octave, fingers strumming out the melody in an effort to match her pitch. That made it a bit easier.

Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright

Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's someplace that he'd rather be…

Benny couldn’t decide if he was potentially on the threshold of Hell – making a mistake here would just be another blow to his ego – or on the steps of Heaven. The woman certainly sang like an angel, and looked like one. Well, maybe pink boots weren’t their ideal uniform, but hey. If you could sing like that? Exactly. He even found himself sharing a grin with Lara when they sang the nonsensical portion of the chorus.

Sing us a song you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight well we're all in the mood
For a melody and you got us feeling alright…

“Wow,” Bennett managed after a full minute of silence, finally giving into the grin he had been feeling rise when Lara walked through the door. “How’d you find me here?”

“Well, you did ring my agent.” Was that a smirk? “It wasn’t too hard for him to find where you lived.” A casual shrug followed, and he understood. Lara may not have been the biggest voice to hit the charts in the last year, but she’d need a safety net of security.

“But I don’t live here…” Pausing, Benny thought for a quick moment. “It may have been my school transcripts. I changed my address to my brother’s so I could have a little privacy with my correspondence.” Flashing a quicksilver grin, he returned her shrug. It really didn’t matter to him. Frankly, he was thrilled that she had looked him up! But why? That was a nagging point, which he chose to ignore by playing a few bars of a familiar piece of music; one that everyone knew. “Humor me?”

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk to you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping…

Engaging the woman in song, instead of conversation, was so much easier. Even in this duet, her voice soared, especially when compared to his mediocre one. No, Bennett knew he’d never make any headlines or create any waves with his voice. At least, that was what he thought. Instead, he envisioned the rough and hard background accompaniment, always lurking. Eventually he’d have to gather his courage and speak with the beauty. Soon. Like, now.

Whispered the sound of silence…

“So…” it was a nervous silence, more on Bennett’s fidgety behalf than anything else. Eventually he managed a small smile. “I’m glad you came.” Uh. “To visit.” Yeah? “Me.” Oh God. Pausing, the man shook his head, and instead extended his hand.

“Let’s start over. Hi, I’m Bennett. What’s your name?”

Good a place to start as any.

Devon was absolutely certain God was punishing him.

Why else would he have a bitching female on his hands? He was humoring the thought of drugging the woman into oblivion. But he doubted the chief would take too kindly to that. Jesus Christ, the man had been doting on Isabel. Isabel! And if he had been uncomfortable by it, Lord only knows what Sonnet felt like at that moment.

That morning, while she had still slept, Devon had gotten ready for work. All his gear had been stowed away in a bag that was tucked into a corner of the laundry room. Definitely made his life easier, he realized. Even if he did have to iron his uniform. At least they got the blood stains out… That thought made his stomach do a queasy little flip before settling back down. It had been three weeks since he had worked, and the sedentary lifestyle was catching up to him.

Well, sort of. Down the hall he could hear Isabel with a chipper voice, rousing Sonnet from bed and into the shower. Soon enough she would be able to manage on her own. Secretly, they were hoping tonight; they being Devon and Isabel, co-conspirators. Though he loathed admitting that he could potentially miss lending a hand around the house… No, definitely not going to think of that.

Twenty minutes later, the uniform was done, he was dressed, and settling the utility belt around his waist. Out of habit, firearm was checked, along with the two extra magazines and handcuffs. Right, he was ready to go.

But Sonnet wasn’t.

He didn’t blame her, honestly. She was still grumpy and irritable about her arm, which was understandable. Why he was trying to be nice was beyond him, though. So he readied her uniform, stocked her utility belt, and laid everything out so Isabel could help her dress. Ten minutes later and it was a fight with her hair, which didn’t last too long. Then they were ready!

Devon mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ to Isabel behind Sonnet’s back, when she handed him an inconspicuous small black case, which looked like it could hold a few cosmetic supplies. Instead it had the woman’s medicine, just in case she decided to become Superwoman over night, and forego her pain killers. Hey, it wasn’t like they were going to be doing anything outstanding today, now was it?

Twenty minutes later via a ride in the Taurus – oh, she definitely didn’t look happy when he had to reach over and buckle her in! – and they were at the station. Of course, they went in the back way for employees, it was only proper. But it was quiet. Usually there were a few boisterous calls, telephones ringing, what have you. But not this morning. Holding the door open for Sonnet as they walked into the precinct proper, he wouldn’t have expected what was about to happen.

“SURPRISE!” Oh. My. God.

Devon could only stare, even when someone tooted a party whistle and tossed confetti on their heads. There were a few streamers and balloons hanging about, and every officer… Oh God, they were all wearing slings, mimicking Sonnet! He couldn’t help it when he started laughing, and laughed even harder when someone insisted that he put a sling on as well. There were congratulations all around for Sonnet, before the Chief stormed up, looking belligerent as always.

“Welcome back, Tennyson!” Whoa. Maybe Isabel was good for this guy, because he just procured a cake out of no where. White frosting, sprinkles of green for grass, and one dead perp that had been run over by a Hot Wheels car on the cake. It was absurd! And totally like them all. But that wasn’t the last of it.

“We all chipped in!” declared one boisterous detective that looked as if he had already eaten some cake. But, dutifully, a brightly wrapped box – the print was of handcuffs – was set before Sonnet. “C’mon! Open it already!”

Inside? A black vest, complete with molded shoulder guards and a trauma plate that added reinforced protection over the heart. It was apparent the precinct didn’t want to do without Officer Tennyson; especially if they had chipped in to buy nearly a grand in Kevlar for the woman.

“Better safe than sorry!” A few laughed at the exclamation, before their attentions turned to cake and morning assignments. Devon did his usual duty, making sure Sonnet was settled and fetching her drink and food.

Not many missed the fond squeeze he gave her hip, or the slight smile he wore when near her. Just what had happened while they were on hazard pay?

Ask the water cooler.

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