Considering Sandburg

By Wordwitch


Series: Doing Sandburg. Follows Receiving Sandburg


"So I kissed him! So fucking what? He waza bride, wazn't he?" Hanrahan looked almost pathetic, shaking the end of his cock over the urinal there in the bar. I tried to ignore him, but the guy was loud.

"Wore white 'n everything. An', you know, Ellison sure ain't the bride in that house, nooooo."

I tucked myself away, and went to wash my hands. Unlike Hanrahan, this was only my third trip to the john tonight. Beer sure goes straight through you. But I'd at least stayed away from the champagne, except for the toasts. Hey: fellow officers, you gotta dance at the wedding, you gotta drink to their happiness. Even the Odd Couple out there. They'd been good to me and my squad, and we were being good to them. But Hanrahan's an asshole.

The door banged open, and somebody else came in - Clive, from Vice, his mouth already open. I swear, those guys blab more than anyone else on the Force.

"Did he knock your socks off, then, Hanrahan? You ready to switch teams, huh? Hey, I know: you can come on the next sting! I gotta dress'll look reeeeeal nice on you!" And he laughed raucously.

Time to divert. Hanrahan was all red, and he might be an asshole, but at least he's on my squad.

"Hey, Clive: Sandburg ever work with you guys?" Like a charm. Clive swung around to face me, then remembered what he was supposed to be here for, and headed for the urinal, already unzipping.

"Yeah, no, well, not really, not *worked,* you know, but he's helped out sometimes, you know how it is, you got experts, you use 'em, where's the harm in that, eh? But no, we've never put him on the streets, no money in it, Bulldog'd scare off all the johns and what good would that do?"

I'd be out the door already, but I was committed to staying at least long enough for Hanrahan to finish washing his hands. And the asshole had to open his mouth.

"Like I'd switch teams for you anyhow. Yer just uuuuugl-!" I swooped him out the door, and hoped to God that Clive would wash his hands.

Once back out in the crowded bar, I looked around, try to spot a decent place to stash Hanrahan. It was tough. He crossed two lines tonight, trying to kiss a guy like that right out in the open, and then trying to put down Sandburg, of all people, by kissing him, trying to make him out to be girly. I snorted to myself, remembering the dip-and-drop. Ah: secretaries. They should be safe enough. I steered him that direction.

As if. I mean, I've dated some of the uniforms after Sandburg - well, you're gonna be behind some guys, ahead of some others, unless they're just not dating at all, which does happen. But anyway, so I've followed him a few times, and sometimes I got insulted, and sometimes I learned something new. But none of the girls ever thought the rumors about him and Ellison were true. They would just kinda - smile, this little tiny cat-smile, when the subject would come up. Wonder what they're thinking now? But you know, I'm not sure they were wrong. You know, at the time.

I mean, I dunno that much about qu - about *gay* relationships, but I don't think it's required that one of them has to be girly. It sure didn't look like it when Sandburg kissed Ellison, there after he rocked Hanrahan's world. I dropped off the asshole with the secretaries, who all had this, this really dangerous-looking smile on their faces. Lord. But they're safer than Vice.

Turning, I bumped into a tall, flabby-looking guy with short hair - um, okay, one of Sandburg's friends? I stuck out my hand.

"George Burnmaster, Burglary. Having fun?" He had a surprisingly good grip for a flabby guy.

"Louie Nagin, GLBT Resource center. Nice to meet you. Yes, I never thought I'd see the day, but you cops are really changing here. When I worked with Jim on those gaybashers a few years ago, I thought it would never happen, you know? This is simply astounding." OH, okay, that qu- gay guy Ellison worked with on the Tarnished Shield case. A thought went through my head, beer-driven.

"Hey, maybe you could answer a question for me." The guy looked suspicious, and I didn't blame him, but I forged ahead. "Is it true that most guys who slam - gays the loudest are really gay themselves?" I was pretty proud of that. No words I shouldn'ta used at all.

"Well, it's been somewhat consistent, yes, but you know nothing is a complete predictor."

I grinned, and start to move him over to the secretaries. "I got somebody I want you to meet. He's a little confused. Hey, Hanrahan!"

After a little invective, I got him settled - Burnmaster, Society Hostess, that's me - and headed back into the party.

It was weird, having Ellison out like this. Having our highest-profile detective come out big-time, having a queer wedding, for God's sake, with the whole PD invited! It wasn't natural, and if I thought about it too hard, I got the queasies and had to take antacids. But as my mom pointed out after my dad's bypass last year, surgery isn't natural, and see what kind of good that does. And he did do good, even if he was a hard-assed sonofabitch. And Sandburg did good, too, even if he was a first-class Brainiac on speed.

So, it's an honor to Serve And Protect alongside guys like them. And you gotta look at the bright side.

Neither one of them is gonna be taking up the available girls!


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