Fic: Fall

Aug. 6th, 2010 12:10 am
dolevalan: (Sloane)
[personal profile] dolevalan
Title: Fall
Fandom/original: original
Rating: PG-13
A/N: For [livejournal.com profile] rougen's prompt, "should have seen it coming." Another 15-minuter. AU.


He was an idiot.

This probably surprised no one but himself.

Arthur Sloane stood on the edge of a roof, looking down at the Chicago street stories below. All the people going about their lives, not in the least bit wiser to the fact they inhabited a city full of mobsters and thieves, crooked politicians and corrupt police.

And he’d been one of them.

The fools, that is. He’d been part of the police, too, but he hadn’t been corrupt. Maybe if he had been, his partner’d be alive. No – unlikely. If he’d been more corrupt, though, maybe he wouldn’t have cared.

There was the click of a gun behind him, but he didn’t turn right away. It was a melodramatic sound – if you wanted someone dead, you cocked and pulled the trigger in nearly one fluid motion. This was a sound that begged for attention.

“Well,” he said, his voice harsh but cold. “Guess you finally got the scene you’d been building up to all these months. A nice solid dramatic arc, there.”

Tonya’s voice was steady, though there was a little throb to it. Little enough to miss. “Don’t, Arthur. Just turn around.”

He did, slowly, flicking his cigarette off the side of the building. He imagined it coming to rest in bits, falling apart as it hit the pavement below.

“There’s a good man,” she said. Her aim was steady, but he knew you couldn’t hold a gun at eye level forever. “You just couldn’t let it go. Like a dog with a bone. They’d have dropped you, Arthur, if you dropped them.”

“Them. Why not say ‘us’ and get it over with?” He moved a little closer – she didn’t back away. “Well, Sunshine, you got a nice clean shot. Though how you’re gonna haul me over the side without getting my juices all over that nice dress of yours, I can’t say.”

“For a smart man, you understand nothing, do you know that?”

He came closer, until less than two feet separated his chest from the barrel of her .38. “Just as well, then. Cut the sap out of the story and it can find its inevitable conclusion. What am I gonna do, throw myself off the building in remorse for Joe’s kid?”

She smirked, though something in her eyes flickered. “Something like that.”

“Can I ask a question first?”

He noted, with shock, that even in the half-light of the nighttime city, her eyes were bright and wet. “No.”

He wasn’t surprised, he thought dully as he hit the concrete, that she’d pulled the trigger. Not really. But he hadn’t the slightest idea which of them she was crying for.

Dying confused, he thought as the pain shut his mind down, was possibly the worst way to go.
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Estelle

January 2012

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