The “Tales of Toronto” come from a role-playing game that is based on Mutant X. Sometimes characters are based around other fandoms and incorporated into the role-play, adapting them into mutants. Subsequently, resemblances to characters/situations seen on TV in this story are not coincidental. Concepts belong to Tribune Entertainment Company and Pet Fly Productions. No money is being made, so don’t sue me. I don’t have any money, so sueing would be pointless. It’s all in fun, OK?

The character ‘‘Jason Borges’’ is Jay’s, ‘‘Jimmy Vartanian’’ is mine.

Rated R- violence, language, m/m. (If you don’t know what m/m means, you have no business reading this kind of story.) Feedback is welcome. Flamers, go home, you were warned.

By Black Raven

Detective Jason Borges closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat down at his desk. I love being a cop. I love my job, I love my job, I love my job… He might have been annoyed at the moment, but love for his work kept him going.

The source of his irritation was across the bullpen, leaning against Detective Fiona Dawson’s desk, chatting and flirting with the lovely woman.

As he did every day, Jason scrutinized his flirty partner, Special Consultant Jimmy Vartanian. The young man was twenty-seven, five feet seven inches tall, with long chestnut-red hair in a riot of curls, and blue eyes deep enough to drown in.

Jason could smell Jimmy’s scent, see every emotion on the expressive face, hear what he was saying. Jason inhaled deeply through his nose, deepening that scent until he could taste it, almost touch it.

Jason was a mutant. All of his physical senses were intensely hyperactive, sometimes to the point of pain if he wasn’t careful to keep them under control.

He stifled a sigh and stopped focusing on his partner before it drove him insane.

It made no sense, had little reason, and seemed completely ridiculous. None of that made any difference.

Jason Borges was falling in love with his partner, who was very hetero and chasing after ever skirt in the department.

The absurdity of it was staggering.

We should be like oil and water, Jason reflected as he made notes on a crime scene report. Captain Moore of Major Crimes was expecting to have this report by the end of the day. There was no putting it off, but Jason could still think while he worked.

Jimmy Vartanian was Jason’s exact opposite in just about every way. He was outgoing, friendly, energetic and very, very intelligent ((Jim had worked most of his life to obtain a doctorate in Sociology, with a minor in Anthropology. He was one of the youngest people in the world to hold that distinction)). He looked like a long-haired hippie, ate health food and made friends as easily as breathing.

Jason, on the other hand, was a withdrawn man. He was honest enough with himself to admit that he was something of a control freak, didn’t make friends easily and seldom talked to anyone except the Captain. Jimmy was a chatterbox, so all Jason ever really had to do was make agreeing or disagreeing or inquisitive sounds when appropriate. His favorite foods ran highly toward fast food takeout. And he was smart, but not nearly as smart as Jimmy.

When the experiment to partner an experienced detective with a civilian expert on people, Jason had objected to being made into the guinea pig. Objected to being shackled to a wet-behind-the-ears kid who would probably slow him down and always be in his way.

But it worked. Defying logic, it all worked. Jim was smart enough to know when to stay back, when it was time to stick close, when to keep quiet and when to speak up. His insights into criminal thinking were genius. Sure, the guy occasionally fell into trouble that wasn’t of his own making, but on the whole, he was turning out to be an invaluable member of the Toronto PD and the Major Crimes unit.

Jason shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. Way too distracting. Not to mention potentially embarrassing.

Sighing, Jason worked doggedly on the report. On the inside, his heart was breaking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy bade farewell to the lovely Fiona, and strolled to his workstation, which was right next to his partner’s. Fiona’s a sweet girl, in spite of her tough-girl reputation.

It was easy for Jimmy to pick out clues about a person’s real character as he drew them into talking. It was, after all, what he’d gotten his doctorate for.

He dropped into his seat behind his desk, and looked at Jason, who was hunched over his computer, slowly typing out a report. There was much mumbling, glaring at the monitor, and backspacing going on. Jimmy stifled a chuckle. Laughing at Jason was a good way to get your head chewed off.

Jim reached over and took the report, already opening the correct file form with his mouse. “How many times do I have to tell you to let me do this?” he asked idly, sublimely ignoring Jason’s outraged look. He simply put his glasses on and began to type, still talking. “You know I’m the faster typist.”

There was a moment of silence, then a rueful snort. “As usual, you’re right, Smartass,” Jason admitted. “What I don’t get is how you can read, type, and talk, and never make a typo.”

“Years of practice, Muscle Man,” Jimmy answered. They called each other all kinds of names. Most of those names weren’t polite to say in public. “I don’t know how you ever managed before I came along.”

“Very badly,” Jason answered with a grin. Jimmy watched his partner from the corner of his eye. The grin turned into a frown, then Jason got up and walked away.

Jimmy took a sniff at the air. Hurt. Jason’s hurting. No question as to why. He sighed pensively, tracking Jason’s progress around the bullpen. Brisk walk, strained conversation, forced laughs, and the scent that was reminiscent of a thick morning fog.

Jimmy was a mutant, a feral. A wolf feral. The thing he loved most about this job was the sense of protecting the pack, even if the “pack” was an entire city.

Correction, there’s one thing you love more. Damn his conscience, always reminding him of that. It made his chest contract and stomach churn with guilt.

Jimmy was just as infatuated with Jason as Jason was with him. Jim had known it from the very moment they’d met. He’d sensed it, like fate was crashing in on them.

And, being the stubborn, mule-headed, and all-around obstinate, Jimmy had fought back against fate with everything he had. He hated feeling like he was being guided like a puppet on strings by the Powers That Be.

So, he’d chased skirts, went to bars, made friends with everyone. Except Jason; Jim kept that relationship purely professional. Even though he ached for Jason with a frightening intensity, he would not give in. He knew Jason was miserable. So was he.

Jim paused typing to sneak a better look. Jason was in his early thirties, six feet one inch tall, dark haired, blue eyes, and had a body that just wouldn’t quit; muscular and fit as a fiddle. He could be gruff, impatient, and sometimes too damned rule bound. He was also a compassionate person who rarely let it show, and had a real soft spot for kids.

I wish he’d take that hard body and… Jimmy cut off that thought before it could get started. He didn’t have the time to sneak into the private bathroom downstairs to take care of a problem, and he sure as hell didn’t want to walk around until he had blue balls. Better to just not think about it. Better to pick up a willing young lady later and fanticize as he had sex with her.

What Jimmy didn’t know was that later, things would be a lot different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Officer Parker burst out of the Dispatch office. “Hey! Unit 7 is in a chase! They think they’ve got Jeff Carey on the run!”

Jason immediately jumped for the coat rack where his service weapon was slung in its holster. He grabbed it on the run, noting that Jimmy was right beside him. Jeff Carey was one of their cases, and a guy that Jason absolutely hungered to arrest. The man had killed at least three innocents and one beat cop.

Taking the stairs down to the parking garage, Jason and Jimmy got into Jason’s beat-up old Jeep and took off. Jason only listened with half his attention to Jimmy warning him to not go crazy, not lose judgment, try to keep objective. He could agree with what his partner was saying, admire it, even, but most of his attention was on getting through traffic as fast as possible, ignoring the faint yelps and occasional horrified gasps from his passenger.

By the time Jason caught up, the chase was over. The two patrol cars had trapped a dark sedan in an area with few avenues of escape. This remote place was once a block of shops, now abandoned.

“He’s in there, Detective!” the younger officer said, pointing at what had once been a bookstore. “Iverson’s watching the back. He can’t have left, the next roof is too far and he hasn’t come down the fire escape.”

“Good job, Harris,” Jason complimented, reading the name of the badge. “I’m going in after him. Jimmy, you stay here.”

As always, there was an exasperated grumble, but no protest was uttered. Jim hated being left behind, but he was a civilian, not a cop. Besides that, Jason was terrified that something might happen to him.

Jason drew his weapon and advanced into the building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jimmy sighed and went to stand beside the Jeep, leaning against it. He crossed his arms and looked sullen, his public face for these situations. Harris offered a sympathetic grimace, and Jimmy nodded acknowledgement before looking at the ground.

Dammit Jason, you always jump in head-first. And every time you do it, I’m scared. Jim didn’t show it, but he scared down to his toes. He always was, whenever Jason went after a criminal. Is this the time you won’t come back?

He was so involved in his thoughts, he didn’t hear soft footsteps behind him until it was too late. Then a large arm was around his throat, and cold metal was pressed to his left temple.

At the sound of Jimmy’s surprised grunt, Harris turned, weapon at the ready. “I’d drop that if I were you, officer,” Jimmy’s captor said. “Unless you want this man dead.”

“Drop him, Harris!” Jimmy wheezed, trying to ease the grip on his throat. “Take him out!”

Carey laughed darkly, giving Jim such a hard shake that his teeth rattled. “Stand still. Go ahead, Officer, shoot. Kill me and have this man’s death on your conscience.”

Jimmy growled out, “Don’t let him do this, Harris, don’t let him get away! Shoot!” Better to die this way. He knew, without a doubt, that Carey would kill him, and escape.

Harris looked agonized. He struggled with the decision for a few moments more, then broke and dropped his weapon. “I can’t do it,” he told Jimmy softly in apology.

“It’s all right,” Jimmy reassured the younger man. He couldn’t blame the young cop for not being able to shoot.

“Toss over your handcuffs, Officer. Right here beside us.” Harris complied. Carey slowly knelt, taking Jimmy with him. “Pick them up, and put them on,” he instructed Jimmy. “Behind your back.”

It was an awkward situation, but Jimmy managed, beginning to feel cold bubbles of fear rise in his stomach. He forced himself to calm, watchful waiting. A wolf would not leap into situation a where there was no clear advantage. He would watch, and wait, for the right opportunity to present itself.

“Come along now, we’re going for a walk,” Carey said, almost cheerfully, burning out the tires of every vehicle present with his weapon. Harris took cover.

In truth, Carey started to run, and Jimmy could only go along with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Detective Borges? Detective Borges!” Officer Harris’s urgent shout distracted Jason from his search.

“What?” he yelled in reply, nearly into the basement of the building where he’d followed the scent of his prey.

Running footsteps, then Harris was beside him, panting, sweating and so pale that Jason thought the kid would pass out. “What is it?” Jason asked again, starting to worry.

“Carey,” Harris panted, leaning against a wall. “He found some way to sneak out, and got the drop on me.” Harris paused, gulping hard. “Sir, he disabled our vehicles and took Vartanian hostage.”

No… No, it can’t be, no… Jason’s consciousness tried to re-write reality, but Harris’s galloping heartbeat, the anguish in the kid’s face; those things told Jason that Harris was not delusional, or crazy.

Jason’s vision tinted red around the edges. A cold fury like he’d never felt before engulfed him. He turned on his heel, still following the scent, which led to a way out, a ladder built into the wall, up to a, iron-grilled hole. Jason climbed up, and realized he was three streets away from that old store. He was probably nearly out when we pulled up. He waited, letting me get far away, then doubled back to ambush Harris and Jimmy…

He had to keep his teeth clenched to hold back a howl of despair. He’s got Jimmy, a cold-blooded murderer has Jimmy…

Then Jason snapped back to his senses. This wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot. “Get Iverson,” he told Harris. “We’ll follow Carey on foot. Call for backup, tell them we’ll keep them updated on Carey’s position so they won’t be too far behind.”

Harris nodded, and went to get Iverson. Jason holstered his weapon and began to sniff at the air, hunting for the scent of the one person he couldn’t bear to lose. Ever.

“Carey said that if anyone follows, Vartanian is dead…”

“Then we go slowly and wait for him to think he’s safe.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You won’t get away with this, Carey, you know that,” Jimmy said with confidence.

They were four blocks from the scene. Carey turned down a short alley that led to an old, now-unused park.

“I’ve gotten away with a lot of things, kid.” Carey smirked unpleasantly.

Jimmy absently noted, as he was dragged along, that the old park looked real sad. Paper rubbish was everywhere. The trees and bushes were untrimmed and wild. The old swing sets and jungle gyms and other various things were all broken and rusty. This place had been full of playing children, once upon a time. Now it was just a littered piece of the past.

“You don’t know Jason Borges like I do. He’s the best. A machine. He never stops, Carey, never! He will find you, count on it.” Jimmy’s faith in Jason was absolute. Jason will find me. He won’t give up.

Carey dragged Jimmy along further, looking like he was in deep thought. He stopped abruptly beside a stagnant, weed-choked fish pond. The fence that had kept small children away had crumbled long ago, lying on the ground, scattered.

“Then I guess I’ll have to slow him down enough so I can get out of the hunt zone, get some different clothes, and get transportation.”

Carey turned his head slowly, looking at Jim with a deeply disturbing gleam in his eyes. Jimmy tried to pull back, but Carey still had a firm hold on him. “Detective Borges will be quite upset when he finds his partner dead.”

Carey kicked Jimmy in the back of the knee, making him stagger and fall. Less than a heartbeat later, Carey had Jimmy’s hair in an iron grip, and shoved his head under water.

The panic in him exploded, and he fought wildly. No, damn you, no no no!!! I don’t want to die! He held his breath, thrashing as hard as he could against the implacable hand holding him down.

It wasn’t long before Jimmy’s chest was burning fiercely; he had to get air! The part of his mind that was purely wolf howled in despair. I can’t die without telling Jason! I have to tell him!

A fist struck Jim in the ribs, and the last air he had left was driven out. Water rushed down his throat. Jason!

There was no reprieve, just more water pouring into his lungs. He was weakening; he felt it as life left his body.

Everything went dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason and the two patrol officers were nearing the old park. “How does he know where to go?” Iverson whispered to Harris. “I dunno, man,” Harris replied, “but Borges is the best on the force. For all I know, he could be sniffing them out. Now shut up.”

Jason heard every word, and suppressed a smile. Harris had no way of knowing that he was right.

The smile vanished as the trio entered the park. Jason felt an atavistic chill sweep over him. Something was wrong, horribly wrong. He abandoned the stealthy pursuit and started to run. He left Harris and Iverson behind, going full-out through the park. The scent was strong here, but somehow it was fading too.

When Jason saw the body lying half-submerged in the stinking pond, he let out a pure animal howl of grief and denial. It couldn’t be Jimmy, it couldn’t…

But it was. Jason hauled the waterlogged body out of the pond and turned it over. The lifeless body had Jimmy’s face.

“No no no…” Jason whimpered, straining to hear something, anything. No heartbeat, no breathing, nothing. “God damn it, no! Don’t you dare do this to me, Vartanian!”

Jason unlocked the handcuffs, got Jim laid out flat, and started CPR. I won’t lose you, I won’t! He distantly heard Iverson and Harris arrive. Harris called for an ambulance while Iverson got down and helped Jason, taking over the chest compressions.

Jason had no thought; he could only keep breathing air into the person who meant the whole world to him. Those beautiful lips were so cold. He begrudged every breath he had to take for himself.

How long was he under? God, it’s not working, I know it’s not working!

Jason shoved Iverson aside, and started pushing on Jimmy’s chest, hard. “Come on! Come on! Dammit, partner, you’re better than this! You‘re stronger than this!” He breathed deep into Jim’s lungs, and kept going. “You can beat this, you can do it, give me some help here, buddy-” breath “-please, Jimmy, come back, come back, I can’t do this alone, without you…”

Breath…

Another chill swept over Jason; he didn’t resist it, he welcomed it for some unknown reason. He let it envelope him, chilling him to the bone, leaving him numb.

He was startled as all light vanished. He couldn’t see or hear anything. Everything that was “Jason Borges” was hanging in a lightless void.

It totally unnerved him. Jason was down-to-earth, practical guy, not given to flights of fantasy or any kind of mystical mumbo-jumbo.

“Hello?” he shouted. Or tried to shout. He knew he was saying something, but he couldn’t hear it. “Hello! Anyone?”

Suddenly, there was a light in the dark. A weak, feeble glow, but it was light. “Can you hear me?” Jason called, and that small light brightened more. If Jason could have felt his heartbeat, it would have been racing.

“Jimmy, is that you?”

The light pulsed and brightened again. “Jimmy! Jimmy, don’t fade, please, don’t leave me, come back, I need you, I can’t face life without you, you’re my life, oh God, why didn’t I say it sooner? I love you, Jimmy, I love you, don’t go, please don’t go…”

With every word, that light, Jimmy life, grew and got stronger, returning…

Jason was wrenched out of that dark place and back to the world by the sound of Jimmy’s heart beating. Jason turned Jimmy on his side just in time; the younger man began to cough water up, gasping and wheezing.

“Partner, you scared me half to death,” Jason whispered, hugging Jim close. Jim’s breathing, Jim’s heartbeat, they were the most beautiful music in the world to him. “Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

“Try not to,” Jimmy whispered hoarsely. “Can’t promise… Jason… Me too…”

“Don’t try to talk, the ambulance is coming, you’ll be fine…”

Jimmy hands clutched Jason‘s arms weakly. “Know that. Fine. Get him, Jason. Get Carey, catch him.”

“Count on it, partner,” Jason promised. He passed Jim to Iverson. “Keep him warm until the ambulance gets here.”

Jason took off before Iverson could answer. He followed his nose, running at a steady, loping gait. It was a hunt now. Predator and prey. And he was determined to run this prey to the ground. For Jimmy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later on, Jason sat beside Jimmy’s hospital bed, waiting for him to wake up. Carey was safely in lockup and not likely to see the outside world for the rest of his life. Jimmy’s condition was stable and the prognosis was for a complete recovery.

Now Jason time to think. He was wondering. Wondering what Jimmy had meant when he’d whispered me too…

There was a small sound from the bed, and Jason turned his head to look. Jimmy’s eyes were open, and lucid, and looking at Jason intently.

“Hey partner,” Jason smiled, scooting his chair closer to the bed. “About time you woke up. How do you feel?”

“Sore everywhere,” Jimmy answered, lines of pain pinching the edges of his lips and mouth.

“I’ll get a nurse, they can give you something…”

“No,” Jim said firmly. “Not before I tell you something.”

“What is it?”

“Jason… I could hear you. Wherever I was, I could hear you. I heard every word. And…” Jimmy took a long breath, a sound like a sob. “Jason, I’m so tired, I can’t keep doing this, it’s ripping us both to pieces. The last thing I thought of as I died was you, and I should have told you…”

“Told me what?” Jason asked, wide eyed.

“That I love you,” Jimmy whispered miserably. “That I’ve loved you since the first time I looked into your eyes. It was fate, and I hate fate, I really hate it. So I ignored what I felt and tried to avoid fate. I’m so sorry. Sorry for wasting so much time, for hurting you, sorry for everything…”

Jason was gaping in surprise, feeling elation build up inside at every word Jimmy said. He’d had no idea about Jimmy’s feelings. None. What an actor he was! It was mind-blowing. Unbelievable. But Jimmy had said I love you and it was true because Jason always knew the truth when he heard it.

Jimmy was still rattling on in depressed tone, saying that Jason probably hated him and everything was awful. Jason laughed, a sound of pure, unadulterated happiness. Jimmy blinked and stared at him.

“Forget all that. Just shut up! It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but you.”

Jason could see that Jimmy didn’t believe him. So, slowly, Jason leaned down until their lips met. Their first kiss.

And the first moment of the rest of their lives.