#she gets the crook to confess in front of the cops and then immediately let him go

[daydreamerdrew]

The Savage She-Hulk (1980) #1

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Mobster!Steve Rogers - Pt. III

Part I & Part II

WARNING: violence and abuse 

---------------------------

“Well, you’re being awfully quiet today…”

Steve snapped out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

His mother smiled, already knowing her son wasn’t listening to a word she was saying.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Stevie?”

“Nothing. Sorry, ma. I’m just tired.” He sighed.

But Sarah Rogers didn’t believe him one bit. “You sure it doesn’t have to do with that gal you took out the other week?”

Steve’s face scrunched in confusion, truly not realizing who she was talking about. Then it clicked. “Oh, Stacey? No. I wasn’t thinking – No, mom. She’s not the one for me.”

Sarah chuckled. “You say that about all them, you know.”

Steve’s bright blue eyes went distant. “Not all of them.”

His mother seemed to be able to read his mind. “Yeah? Well, you sure as hell messed that one up, didn’t you?”

Steve rubbed his face, clearly exhausted. “Please, ma. Not today.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad honey. I just worry about you.”

“You ain’t got nothing to worry about, ma. I’m fine. Always am.”

Sarah sighed. “Had I known how this throne would’ve lay on your head, I would’ve never allowed your dad insist on letting you take over the family business.”

Steve just stared at her, unsure of what she was trying to say.

“You’ve always been soft, Steve. Gentle. Kind. Empathetic. You got those bits from me.” She smiled sadly. “But your father only wanted to see the parts of you that were like him. I know you believed you didn’t have a choice. But you did. I just wish I had made that clearer. But you were grieving your father. I don’t think you would’ve listened to me anyway.”

“I don’t think I would’ve either, ma.”

“Your father managed to keep me and you safe, didn’t he?”

“Yeah. He did,” Steve confirmed.

“So, why are you so convinced that anyone you love will be given a death sentence, sweetheart?”

——————————————————

Steve opened the front door of his brownstone mansion. He shook the rain off his umbrella and gave a half glance to the two parked cars on the street that were always filled with men running security on his home.

A rumble of thunder erupted just as he closed the door behind him. It coincided with Bucky’s steps hurrying down the stairs.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to call your for 2 hours?” Bucky snapped at him.

Steve glared at his best friend, but was more annoyed than angry. “I was at my ma’s. You know I turn off my phone when I’m there.”

Bucky sighed then, taking in his friend’s appearance before continuing. “We have a situation…”

The genuine concern and seriousness in his tone finally caught Steve’s attention. “What? What’s going on?”

Bucky’s confidence from earlier had disappeared. Now he was unsure of how to approach the topic.

“Buck, what is it?” Steve snapped.

“Y/N,” Bucky quickly replied. “Y/N’s here.”

Steve swore his heart dropped to his stomach. “Y/N? Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

Bucky just nodded. “She showed up at your front door, soaked to the bone and shaking. She asked to see you. Said she would’ve called but she deleted your number after – well, after the last time you two saw each other.” Bucky shifted his weight. “When I tried to ask her what was going on, she wouldn’t talk.”

Steve was still processing that she was in his home. “Where is she?”

Bucky pointed to the staircase behind him with his thumb. “She’s waiting for you in your study.”

But as Steve quickly stepped by him, Bucky gently grabbed him by the arm to stop him.

“Steve, I don’t think she’s OK. She’s…different.”

It was the only warning Steve would get before he made his way to the study.

He knocked on the door twice before opening it, mostly to make sure he didn’t scare her. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even turn around when he entered.

Steve immediately noticed the suit jacket draped over her shoulders. Then he remembered that Bucky didn’t have one when he’d greeted him downstairs.

Ever so slowly, Steve stepped around the chair.

“Y/N?” He addressed her quietly.

But what he saw was not the Y/N he had said goodbye to just over a year ago.

Y/N had lost weight – too much weight. She was just skin and bones now. There were shadows under her eyes, like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Even though her hair was still drying from the rain, Steve knew it would not have the same shine that he still dreamed of touching.

Bucky was right about the shaking. She did a good job of hiding it, but Steve saw the slight tremble in her hands as they fidgeted in her lap.

She wouldn’t look him in the eye. Her head hung low and she stared down at her hands in her lap.

“Hi,” She muttered. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, but only for a second.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He didn’t bother asking if she was OK. It was very clear that she was not.

“Ummm…I’m sorry for barging in on your…life…like this.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he stopped her gently. He slowly kneeled in front of her in hopes that he could get her to actually look at him. “You got nothin’ to be sorry for. Why don’t you just tell me what’s going on, OK?”

She finally got pulled into his gaze, losing her train of thought for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah. OK.”

“Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

But she shook her head immediately. “No. Bucky already asked. Thank you.”

She went silent again.

Steve didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to pressure her. But it was obvious something had gone very wrong. “How about you take a shower first? I’ll get you some dry clothes? And then maybe we can talk. How about that?”

Y/N swallowed, but said nothing.

“Y/N, you’re shivering. You’re gonna catch a cold if don’t get you out of these wet clothes.”

“O-Okay,” she finally stuttered a response.

30 minutes later, Y/N was wrapped in a robe, sitting on one of the couch’s in Steve’s living room, a giant mug of warm coffee in her grasp.

“I’m sorry about all of this. I didn’t…I didn’t know where else to go,” Y/N began. “A month or so after I…after I last saw you, my apartment building got bought by this man. I didn’t think anything of it. Never thought anyone would ever put a face to his name. But then he happened to be there one day, just hanging outside my building.”

Y/N take a deep breath, not sure how she wanted to continue. “I don’t know. He-He took a liking to me...or something.” She shook her head at how embarrassing it sounded. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried to be polite and distant. But he – I quickly realized he’s a dangerous man. He’s a crook that’s clearly made a lot of money from being a bully.”

Steve clenched his jaw, but made sure he continued listening.

“His infatuation turned possessive and obsessive. His men watch the building. There’s always at least one following me. He sends me flowers to my work.” She took in a shaky breath. “My rejections didn’t upset him because he thought it was all a game. But he made one thing very clear: if he couldn’t have me, no one could.”

Steve was now trying to control his breathing.

Y/N’s eyes glazed over with tears and her bottom lip shook.

“Before I knew better, I went on a date. I thought – God, I was so stupid. I thought if he saw me with another guy, he’d just back off.”

“But he didn’t,” Steve answered for her.

She shook her head. “When he found the guy walking me home, he picked a fight. Beat him to a pulp. My date ended up being hospitalized for a month. And it was all my fault.”

“Y/N, listen to me. None of that is your fault.”

But she would never listen to such comforts.

And there was more. 

“After that, things just got worse. I knew I was always being watched, being followed. I stopped seeing my friends. I stopped seeing my family. I was scared if he found out who they were, he’d use them against me – hurt them.”

“I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I started drinking more – more than I should. I keep calling into work sick because I’m scared to leave my apartment. I’m losing my mind.”

Her tears finally started falling as she looked at him. “I didn’t want to bring you into any of this. I just didn’t know what else to do. I know he’s friends with cops, so I couldn’t go to them. I’m sorry. I just – I’m so helpless.”

Steve couldn’t handle it anymore. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed into his chest.

“You did the right thing, coming to me. I wish you’d done it sooner,” he whispered to her.

“I deleted your number after everything. I didn’t want the… temptation? I don’t even know. I remembered where you lived. But I couldn’t – I had to make sure they didn’t follow me here.” She was talking too fast now. The tears and emotion were putting her in a frenzy.

Steve hushed her, telling her to just breathe.

It took awhile for her crying to finally subside. But that didn’t mean he loosened his hold on her at all.

“What’s his name?”

The question came out like ice. It was even, slow, but terrifyingly cold.

Y/N’s body tensed. This was the moment she’d been dreading.

She pulled away so she could look at him. “His name is Brock.”

Steve’s face darkened. “Brock?” He growled. “As in Brock Rumlow?”

Y/N looked scared from his sudden shift. “You know him?”

“Oh, I know him,” he already started to carefully shift her body out of his lap and back to the couch.

“Steve, wait!” She quickly grabbed his wrist before he could get up. “I didn’t come here to find a killer.”

He paused.

“Please,” Y/N whispered. “Don’t do what I think you’re going to. That’s not why I came to you.”

Steve literally felt sick from the confession. “Then why did you come here, Y/N?”

“I just…wanted to feel safe. I’m tired of being scared.”

It was her turn to stand up now.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked as he too shot to his feet.

“I can’t stay here.” Her eyes raced around the room wildly. “Brock. He’ll notice I’ve been gone.”

“Y/N,” Steve tried to grab her attention quietly.

She ignored him.

“Y/N!” He grabbed her shoulders.

She finally acknowledged him.

“I’m not letting you leave. Not tonight. The storm’s only getting worse.” He sighed. “I’m just…I’m not letting you leave like this, OK?”

“But–”

“When was the last time you got a full night’s rest, huh?”

Y/N blinked at the question.

“Just…stay the night. You can sleep in one of the guest rooms. I’ll take you back to your place tomorrow morning.”

“No.”

Steve brows raised. “No?”

“I’ll stay the night. But you can’t take me back to my place.”

He slowly reached for both of her hands. “Y/N, I’m not going to let him keep doing this to you.”

“You can’t kill him, Steve. I don’t want that. I’d never want that.”

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Then his eyes dimmed. “But I am going to make myself very clear.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “Just not tomorrow, OK?”

“Not tomorrow,” he repeated.

Steve showed her to one of the guest bedrooms. Of course it was the one closest to the master suite.

“I have four men stationed outside the house. There’s two security guards in the basement. Bucky’s staying the night. And I’ll be just a room over, OK?”

She nodded shyly.

“No one’s going to bother you here. You’re safe. Just get some sleep. And sleep in as long as you want tomorrow, got it?”

She nodded again.

“Alright. Goodnight, Y/N.” He started backing away from the door.

“Wait,” she called out. 

He waited.

Y/N pulled him into a hug. “Thank you, Steve,” she whispered into his shoulder.

He hugged her back. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.”

——————————————————

When Steve awoke the next day, the guest bedroom door was open and the bed was neatly made. It was like Y/N had never been there. Steve quickened his pace as he went down the stairs, expecting to find her in the kitchen.

But only Bucky waited for him, drinking coffee and reading the paper.

“Where’s Y/N?” Steve asked.

“She left,” Bucky answered without looking up.

“Left? What the hell do you mean ‘she left’?”

Bucky finally tore his eyes away from the paper. “Look, I tried to stop her, but I wasn’t about to tackle the poor thing.”

“Did you at least put her into one of our cars?”

Bucky shook his head. “She said it would just make things worse, whatever the hell that means.”

“Christ,” Steve hissed as a hand rubbed his face.

“I did manage to give her your number, and mine. Told her to call us if she needed anything.”

Steve nodded his thanks.

“Steve, what the hell happened to her?”

“Rumlow. Rumlow is what happened to her.”

“Rumlow?” Bucky spat with disgust and disbelief. “What’d he do?”

“He got a liking to her about a year ago. And he’s been emotionally and mentally abusing her since. He watches her every move, won’t take no for an answer. He sent a guy to the hospital for just taking her on a date.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky muttered.

“She knows he’s got connections, so she can’t go to the police.” Steve shook his head. “I realized I’ve never seen her really scared until last night.”

“So…when are we killing him?” Bucky asked.

“We can’t.”

“What the hell you mean we can’t?” Bucky fired back. “Brock’s been a pain in the ass since we started taking over this city. Hell, we’d be doing a lot of people a fuckin’ favor by tossing his corpse in the Hudson River.”

“She asked me not to, Buck.”

“Yeah, because she’s scared out of her god damn mind, Steve!”

“She doesn’t want that kind of guilt, Bucky!” Steve surprised him by yelling. “Remember what that felt like: guilt?”

“So you’re just going to throw her to the wolves?” Bucky challenged.

“Of course not. I’ll rough him up. Make it clear what will happen if he doesn’t leave her the hell alone.”

“Well, I’m not missing it. When do we leave?”

Steve shook his head. “Not until tonight. We got a lot of meetings to handle today. And I want to make sure to catch him off guard.”

Bucky nodded.

———————————-

It was hard for Steve to focus on anything. He texted Y/N multiple times, making sure she was OK. She gave one or two word answers. Distant and straightforward. She texted as if Brock was even reading her messages.

Bucky would eye him every once in awhile, fully aware that Steve was anything but present for these meetings. He couldn’t blame him though.

After a long day, the sun was just about to hit the horizon.

Steve was on one of the balconies of his house, a glass of bourbon in his hand.

He could hear Bucky walking up behind him quietly.

“Promise me something?” Steve asked.

“Anything.”

“Don’t let me get carried away.” It was code for ‘don’t let me kill him.’

Bucky hesitated. “I promise.”

“She’ll know. And then she’ll never look at me the same way.”

Before Bucky could say anything more, Steve’s cellphone started ringing.

As soon as he saw Y/N’s name on the screen, he picked up.

“Y/N?”

But Steve was immediately met with sobbing. He locked eyes with Bucky, showing his panic.

“Y/N! Y/N, I need you to breathe, OK? Just breathe. Calm down. Just calm down and tell me what happened.”

She did as she was told, forcing Steve to hear the struggles to control herself and fight her way out of the panic attack.

“He k-k-knew, Steve. He knew something was up. Then he-he grabbed my phone,” she inhaled shakily. “He saw your messages…” Her words died down.

Steve’s jaw clenched. “Y/N, did he hurt you?”

Y/N only responded with the sniffles she couldn’t control.

“Y/N, did he touch you?”

But she wouldn’t answer.

“Steve, please just come get me.”

————————————-

Bucky was driving the SUV through the streets of Manhattan like a madman. Two other cars tailed them, filled with Steve’s most loyal men.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Steve hissed as he stared out the windshield.

“Don’t get sloppy, Steve. I know this is personal. But you don’t want any of this shit falling back on her.”

“I know,” Steve replied.

He was almost disturbingly calm.

Which actually made Bucky more worried.

The SUV had barely even stopped before Steve threw open the door.

He instantly spotted one of Rumlow’s men, loitering outside the entrance to the building. Steve could recognize a goon with his eyes closed.

“Hey!” He barked. “You work for Rumlow?”

The man didn’t answer, just immediately fumbled for what Steve could only assume was a gun. 

But he was too slow.

Steve swung and knocked him unconscious and off his feet in one hit. He reached down for the man’s gun and dismantled the pieces, tossing the stray bullets into the bushes.

The lock of the entrance couldn’t hold a harsh shove from Steve, easily granting him access to the building.

He heard Bucky barking orders to his men before he hurried to catch up to him.

Steve mentally told himself to calm down when he got to Y/N’s door. The last thing he needed was to scare her just as much as Brock did.

He knocked three times. “Y/N, it’s me. I’m coming in, OK?”

The door was unlocked. Steve slowly on entered.

The kitchen was empty. So was the living room.

“Y/N?” Steve called out carefully.

Bucky was checking all the blind spots, a gun ready in his grasp.

Steve was starting to get worried when he didn’t find her in the bedroom.

But then he heard the whimpers coming from the bathroom.

“Y/N,” he gasped before he hurrying to her.

He froze when he got a good look at her.

She was tucked against the foot of the bathtub, arms hugging her legs tightly to her chest.

Her nose had dried blood underneath it. Her lip was split. There was a red mark on her right cheek that he knew would turn a concerning purple in a day or two. Mascara was smudged underneath her eyes. 

“Jesus Christ,” Steve muttered under his breath before bending down to her level.

She seemed to cower at the intrusion, backing up against the tub as if there was anywhere else for her to go.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise,” Steve whispered.

She nodded, snapping out of it and realizing that she knew she could trust him.

“Can you stand?” He asked.

“I’m not – I don’t know,” she admitted with embarrassment.

When she did try, her legs were shaking like she was a newborn deer learning how to walk.

But before she could fall, Steve was at her side, picking her up in his arms.

“I gotcha,” he whispered. “I gotcha. You’re safe. OK? You’re safe.”

She nodded as she tucked her face into his shoulder.

As he carried her down to her car, he found more bruises and cuts. The more he saw, the angrier he got.

Finally, Steve turned to Bucky.

As their eyes met, they had a silent conversation.

Steve carefully handed Y/N over. “Take her to the hospital. Don’t leave her side.”

Bucky held Y/N like she would break from the slightest pressure. “Let me come with you,” he tried to argue.

“No. Look after her. Keep her safe.”

Bucky looked worried, but he knew better than to argue with Steve, especially when he was in such a state.

Y/N’s head shot up when she suddenly realized what was happening. “Steve, please. Don’t. Don’t leave me.”

Steve leaned over to her, brushing some hair from her face.

“I promise I’ll be back. There’s something I gotta do. Bucky will look after you.”

And before Y/N could fight him on it, Steve was getting into a car with his men.

-----

It was only a few hours later that Steve returned to a dark house.

He heard the click of a gun and turned on the light to find Bucky pointing one at him.

Bucky instantly lowered it. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Is she…?”

“She’s OK. Doc says nothing’s broken. Told her to ice everything. They gave her some pain medication. She’s just gotta take it easy.” Bucky sighed. “She’s upstairs.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Buck.”

“You might want to…clean up before you see her,” Bucky advised carefully.

Steve was suddenly brought back to reality and looked down at himself.

His white button down was now more red than it was white. His skin was also stained with the color. His knuckles were split and bruised.

“Did you make sure he paid for it?” Bucky asked emptily.

Steve gave a slight nod. “It was slow.”

He turned to go upstairs.

Steve expected to find Y/N in the same guest bedroom. But Y/N was asleep in his personal bed.

Steve listened to Bucky’s advice, and took as quick and as quiet of a shower as possible. He made sure to wash away all the blood, leaving no trace. But he knew he couldn’t wash away the sins.

When he slipped into bed, Y/N arouse from her sleep.

She turned to face him, still sleepy.

“Didn’t expect to find you in my bed,” Steve whispered with a little playfulness.

“It smells like you,” Y/N confessed with a blush. “Bucky said you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don��t.” Then he couldn’t stop taking in all the cuts and bruises. Her nose looked better now that all the blood had been cleaned away. “Are you OK?”

She nodded. “I’m better now.”

Then she grabbed his hands, inspecting his cut and bruised knuckles. “Are you OK?”

“I’m fine.”

“Steve, what did you–”

“Y/N, don’t.” He warned. “We can never talk about it. After tonight, we forget all of it.” His eyes were serious. “Nothing happened. You hear me? Nothing.”

“Why did you risk all of this for me?” Y/N breathed.

“You know why, Y/N.”

She couldn’t speak.

“Because I loved you, Y/N. And I still love you,” he told her. “And I know that if I had just stayed that morning, then you… then none of this would’ve happened.”

“That’s not how life works and you know it, Steve. This isn’t your fault.”

“All I ever thought I could do was put you in danger. It never occurred to me that I could’ve been the thing that kept you safe.”

Y/N scooted closer, wanting to be held by him.

Steve complied, kissing the top of her head. “Can you still love me? After seeing what I really am, is that possible?”

“You think I could ever think you a monster after you made sure that the world was short of a man like Brock?”

Steve stayed silent.

“You think you’re so evil, Steve. But the truth is that I’ve never met a man who has a heart like you. Even before all of this shit, even before I knew who you really were… I knew I’d never meet another man like you.”

She could feel his heartbeat through his chest.

“So, yes, I can still love you.”

Steve let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“Can we stop running away from each other now?” Y/N breathed.

She pulled back to stare into his blue eyes.

“Yeah, we can stop running, Y/N.” He told her before gently kissing her lips.

----------------------------------------

Don't say I never did anything for you. 😏

[itsalwaysagirl]

Fighting Fire With Fire

Fandom: NCIS: New Orleans

Words: 1380

Characters; Tammy Gregorio, Hannah Khoury

Summary: After a long day at work, including a suspect they had to interrogate who was also a sexual predator, Tammy just wants to take Hannah to a bar to unwind. She did not want to get into a bar fight.

Thank you @jimmybpride for giving me this title!!!

Read on AO3

Tammy sighed as she set her beer on the table.

“You good?” Hannah asked from the seat next to her.

“Yeah,” Tammy said with a small forced smile. “Just had a long day.”

Hannah nodded in agreement. After tracking down a suspect who had been known for trying to abduct women, including a young sailor on leave, Pride tasked the pair to interrogate him. It took two hours to get a confession, and the entire time he was hitting on Hannah. Tammy was lucky she was able to keep her hands to herself, she wanted to break that guy’s nose so badly. She told him to back off, multiple times, but he would not stop. Hannah just kept interrogating him, acting like she wasn’t even phased. Disgusting wasn’t even the strongest word to use, but Tammy’s brain was too tired to come up with another word, instead, she raised the beer to her lips again.

“Hello beautiful woman,” Tammy couldn’t even take another sip before a tall man with light brown hair sat down next to Hannah. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Hannah looked at the man, lightly shaking her head. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m good.” She gestured to the half-full bottle of beer in front of her.

The man decided to put his hand on hers. “Then would you like to come on a walk with me? I’m sure we could have a good time.”

Tammy eyed him closely, her grip tightening on the beer bottle. She chose to keep her mouth shut unless it got out of hand. She knew Hannah can handle herself. She was about to take another sip when the realization hit her. I’m sure we could have a good time. That’s the same thing their suspect said to Hannah only hours before.

Hearing two men say the same thing to her on the same day made Hannah’s skin crawl. She played it off, acting like she wasn’t bothered. “No thank you, I would like to just stay here and enjoy my night with my friend.” She gestured to Tammy next to her, who had turned her barstool slightly, facing Hannah.

“I’m sure your friend will understand.” He tried to grab Hannah’s arm, but she pushed the hand away. Hannah felt something sharp against her right side. “You’re coming with me.”

Tammy immediately stood up when she saw the knife. “Whoa, look, man, let’s not make a scene. Put the knife away.”

The man laughed. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Oh trust me, you do not want to see.” she sneered.

The man got up, towering over Tammy. “Oh, I think I do.” he scoffed.

Hannah had turned her stool around, hoping Tammy would stand down. “Gregorio don’t-”

Tammy smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Try me.”

His expression instantly became serious. He put his hands on Tammy’s shoulders, shoving her, hard. She was knocked back a few steps, and when she recovered, she saw a knife coming straight towards her stomach. She grabbed his arm, attempting to get him to drop the weapon, but he shifted so the blade slit Tammy’s arm. She grimaced, and Hannah jumped to her feet, knocking the now blood-covered knife out of the man’s hand and elbowing him in the nose. He doubled over, clutching his nose, now crooked and seeping with blood. Hannah took the opportunity to handcuff him.

One of the bar patrons, a woman with dark brown skin and freckles, walked up to Tammy. “I called the cops, they’re on their way. An ambulance is too.”

“Thank you.” Tammy murmured, gingerly holding her right forearm.

Hannah led the man outside, the small group of patrons watching him leave, along with the three bartenders. She handed him off to the police officer who just arrived. Immediately after he was in the backseat of the cruiser, she pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Tammy’s lips. The two of them stood on the sidewalk for a moment, lips moving in sync and bodies barely inches apart.

“What was that for?” Tammy rasped after they pulled apart.

“You didn’t have to stand up to him like that,” Hannah whispered.

“Yes I did,” Tammy purred. “I wasn’t going to let him do anything to you.”

Hannah moved her hand up Tammy’s arm lovingly, stopping when she heard the shorter woman hiss. “Let’s get you checked out.” She gestured to the waiting ambulance and grabbed her bag off Tammy’s good arm.

-----

Hannah sat on her couch, head leaned back and eyes closed. She thought about how long today seemed to feel, and how nice it was to finally have some time to relax. Well, it was almost completely relaxing.

“That man had no right,” Tammy muttered, running her left hand through her hair and pacing around the kitchen.

Hannah closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Tammy.”

Tammy ignored her. “He had no right to touch you, or pull a knife on you.”

Hannah sighed. “Tammy…”

“I should have tried harder to kick his ass.”

Losing the small amount of patience she had left, she yelled, “Gregorio! Get the glasses of water and get your ass over here, now.”

“I’m sorry Hannah,” Tammy mumbled, setting her glass of water on the coffee table and handing the other to Hannah. She sat on the unoccupied side of the couch, bringing her knees to her chest. “That idiot pissed me off.”

“You know, he pissed me off too, you now have stitches in your arm.” Hannah gestured to the bandage wrapped around Tammy’s forearm.

“Four, to be exact.” Tammy corrected. Hannah gave her a look, but Tammy refused to admit Hannah was right.

“Come here,” Hannah whispered, opening her arms. Tammy moved from her seat on the other side, putting her head on Hannah’s chest and wrapping her left hand around her stomach.

She put her injured arm on her own stomach, closing her eyes. “Today was a long day,” her voice cracked wearily.

“I know.” Hannah murmured, placing a kiss on Tammy’s head. “But we got through it together, that’s what matters.”

Tammy reveled in the feeling of Hannah holding her close. She breathed in the taller woman’s scent with a content sigh. “Can we stay like this forever?”

Hannah kept in the small ‘aww’ she initially thought, instead saying, “We have to go to bed, we’ve got work tomorrow.”

Tammy groaned. “Can we play hooky tomorrow?”

Hannah furrowed her eyebrows. “You never want to miss work. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I-um, I-” Tammy stuttered. She sat up, moving off Hannah, and downed the rest of her glass of water. “I need a few minutes.” She placed a light kiss on Hannah’s lips and left the room.

Hannah sat in shock and confusion, choosing to give her girlfriend a few minutes before she got up to check on her.

She rose from the couch slowly, stretching her tired muscles. Grabbing her glass of water, she entered the kitchen, where the only trace of Tammy was the cup in the sink. Hannah finished her own cup and placed it next to Tammy’s. She turned off all the lights and headed towards the bedroom.

Hannah found Tammy staring at herself in the mirror on the dresser, already dressed in an old t-shirt and shorts. Her good arm was cradling her bandaged one. She occasionally wiped at her eyes, frustrated that she couldn’t control them.

“How long you been standing there?” she croaked, her gaze now meeting Hannah’s in the mirror.

Hannah’s heart broke seeing her girlfriend in this state. “Not long.” She padded over to Tammy, leading her to sit on the bed. “You still thinking about him?”

The New Yorker nodded. “I should have been more careful, I should have seen the knife, I was too-”

“Upset?”

“That wasn’t the word I would use.”

“Tammy,” Hannah grabbed her hands, “You were just trying to protect me. You did the best you could. And look at me, we’re here, safe and together.”

Tammy liked her lips, running her left hand through her hair. “I love you, you know that?”

Hannah connected their lips. When she pulled away with a soft smile, she purred, “I love you too.”

Tammy wrapped her arms around Hannah. “Thank you baby.”

[artistic-writer]

Between Now and Nether :: Ch 15 :: A CS AU

Title: Between Now and Nether by @artistic-writer [full res fanart]

Summary: On their way to a Nolan Charity Gala, tragedy befalls Emma and Killian who is given just seven days to set things right.  Can he make Emma believe and escape the Nether before he is lost forever?

Rating: T+/M (this one has swear words!)

AO3 Chapters: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] - [11] - [12] -[13] - [14] - [15] Fanart Full Resolution: [1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10] - [11] - [12] - [13] - [14] - [15]

A/N: This is officially my last completed chapter.  Which means, that if I do not get my life in some sort of order before Christmas, the last 3 chapters might not be posted until afterwards.  I am sorry, and I know how much people are enjoying this fic, and for that, i thank you all, but I have to complete my CSSS, my csfestivegiving and then there is the little problem of the pile of gifts that need wrapping in my lounge.  I hope you guys will understand and know that I will make sure this fic is finished with a flourish, just for you guys!  Writing isn’t the part that takes the time - It is the fanart, which can very often take me hours!

Forever thanks to @kmomof4 for beta’ing the shit out of this thing!  You are seriously the best!  And a massive thank you to @hollyethecurious who i very often whine to and for making me go do that thing last night…it made me feel so much better :)

Taglist: @mariakov81 @rouhn @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke@hookedonapirate @galadriel26 @aye-captn @the-captains-ayebrows@yayimallamaagain @i-nvr-wrote-it @officerrogerss@kiwistreetswan @wellhellotragic@depechemode75 @distant-rose @yrellow-bugs-and-pirate-ships @courtorderedcake @wellhellotragic  @followbatb

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The interrogation room was as it always was; cold and dark, the only light from a soft orange fluorescent bulb hanging over the metal table.  Even the furniture, or lack of it, was hard and uninviting. Often used to make a perp feel more than uncomfortable, a tactic often used to draw out the most stubborn confessions. Paint was peeling from the top corner of the room exposing the mold and grime underneath.  It was the perfect metaphor for most of the people who had passed through here, none more so than the short, tubby excuse of a man who was currently fidgeting across from Captain Lucas.  

“So let me get this straight,” Leroy began with a huff.  “You want me to wear a wire and get Gold to confess to blackmailing me?”

“If that is what you are calling it,” Emma spat, folding her arms across her chest.  She stood behind the Captain, a scowl on her face and venom in her words.

“Easy, love,” Killian warned her softly, rubbing her shoulders with his hands.  “Don’t let him get to you.”

Emma sighed slowly and relaxed.  Killian was right.  Leroy was just a pawn and even though he was arrogant, he was just a small fish in a pool of much larger catches.  Gold was their prize.  Captain Lucas sat back in her chair, the metal creaking under her weight and she peered over the rim of her glasses at Leroy.

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, staring at the man before her.  “Did we give you a choice?  I don’t think you understand how serious the charges are against you, Leroy.”

“And I don’t think you understand that I don’t care,” Leroy laughed and the grating sound of his voice made Emma shiver.  

“Detective,” the Captain offered sympathetically, sitting forward and smacking her tongue against the roof of her mouth making an audible tutting noise.  “Let’s be realistic here…”

“You want to talk realistic?” Leroy spat, wide eyed and agitated.  He pulled against his restraints, the cold metal of the handcuffs digging into the flesh surrounding his wrists as he tried to stand.  “Gold already knows I am in here,” he growled, jabbing his finger into the brushed metal surface of the table.  “It’s just a matter of time for me now, sister.  I am a dead man.”

Emma narrowed her eyes.  Leroy’s words were the first honest thing he had possibly ever said, and she realised it.  He was insinuating something that both Emma and the Captain knew; that he was not the only crooked cop on Gold’s books.  As disgusting as he was, and as much as he deserved to pay for what he had done and the pain he had caused, he was more scared of a single man than the entire weight of the police force.  They had to find a way to make him more afraid of them than he was of Gold.

“We can protect you,” Emma bit out, the words foreign and filled with hate, her entire being fighting with the urge to override the cop side of her that would have used the line on anybody else with ease.

“How about you say that again, with just a little less hatred,” Leroy rasped with a roll of his eyes, falling back into his chair which slid across the concrete floor with a scraping noise.

“You don’t really have a choice,” Captain Lucas repeated quickly.  She shuffled some of the papers in front of her, pulling out a crime scene photo of Liam’s murder, and slid the glossy photograph towards him.  It stopped when it hit his hands and Leroy eyed it suspiciously, swallowing hard.  “We know you did this.  You know it and we know it.”

It wasn’t the first time Emma had seen the cold, dead eyed gaze of a corpse before, but what made Liam’s even more heart wrenching was that not that long ago, she was looking at the similar expression of Killian as he bled to death in her arms.  The Jones brothers were so alike with the same sapphire stare that could melt right into your soul, but in death, the spark behind them disappeared and left nothing but an emptiness that settled right into her bones.  Emma couldn’t look away, couldn’t tear her eyes from the blood splattered face of the fallen cop on the page, instead frozen to the spot, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

“Emma, love, look away,” Killian soothed, twisting her on the spot and making her face him.  To anyone else in the room it would simply look like she had turned to face the small, barred window, but Emma immediately locked eyes with Killian.  She smiled at him, her lips quivering with the memory of the moment she saw his own light fade from behind his eyes.  “It’s alright,” he whispered softly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms and resting his ethereal forehead against hers.

Emma fought to compose herself, sliding her hands down to her still flat belly.  There was nobody else but them in that instant and she inhaled hard, quickly wiping a tear from her eye.

“Bullshit,” Leroy spat, shaking her from her moment.  

“I believe it was actually a gun,” Captain Lucas twisted in her chair and looked to Emma for clarification.  “Right, detective?”

“Right,” Emma agreed.  “No bullshit anywhere at the crime scene, although,” she paused, her brows pulling together in thought.  “Did we make sure crime scene did a thorough sweep?”

“Says here they did,” she shrugged.  The Captain checked the folder for some notes once more, the photocopied scrawl almost unreadable on the page before her.  “Nope,” she announced, flipping the paper around so Leroy could see it.  “No bullshit.  Just a gunshot with your name all over it.  So why don’t we revisit the idea of you wearing a wire, Detective, huh?”  

She was taking her time in mocking Leroy, making sure that they were the ones in charge of this little dance, making sure that he knew he was in for a nasty future should he decline their offer.  Captain Lucas and Emma had already agreed on their ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’ routine, making sure to only pull out the biggest of guns in their arsenal if Leroy absolutely outright refused to help.  The man was selfish and cruel but on the very top of his list was self preservation.  He would not want to end up a statistic on death row.

“Bite me,” Leroy spat at them, his lips curling into a snarl.

“You really think Gold will protect you?  You really think he cares what happens to you?” Emma moved around behind him, slapping his shoulders with both of her hands and making him jump a little.  She looked up at the Captain over his head and shook her head with a snort when Leroy gave no reply.  “This guy thinks Gold cares about him.”

“Awww,” Captain Lucas pouted, shuffling in her chair and crossing her legs one over the other.  Her skirt covered her legs like a curtain and her gun rubbed against the metal chair, the leather holster squeaking as she moved.  “That’s so sweet,” she pouted at him and cocked an eyebrow.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Leroy howled, looking between them, his eye flicking over Emma and then the Captain.  “Once Gold gets his claws into you, he owns you.  He owns your job, he owns your free time.  He owns your family,” he sighed.

If Emma looked hard, really hard, she could see the years of anxiety on Leroy’s face.  He was tired and worn, the bags of skin under each of his eyes testament to years of sleepless nights and worry.  He was right, Gold was ruthless, and Leroy was lucky Gold still considered him an asset, but if Leroy’s confessions were anything to go by, Gold had plenty of dirty cops to do his bidding.  Losing one, especially one who was stupid enough get himself caught, wouldn’t matter one bit.

“What about my family?” Killian snarled.

“And what about my family!” Emma yelled, moving beside Leroy so fast he didn’t have time to register she was even there before her words crashed into the side of his face.  Emma slammed her flat palm down on the table beside his cuffed hands and he flinched away from her.  “What about my brother-in-law?  My boyfriend?” Emma growled, her face so close to his she could feel her breath warming her own face as it bounced off of his skin.

“Wrong place, wrong time,” Leroy snarled back at her.

“Son of a…” Emma grabbed Leroy’s shirt, pulling his face to hers with every intention of head butting him.

“Emma!”

“Detective Swan!” Captain Lucas warned quickly and Emma pushed Leroy away from her, stalked away from the table and ran a shaking hand through the hair that had fallen over her face.

“Love,” Killian was at her side instantly, whispering sweet nothings into her ear that only she could hear to try and calm her down.  “Think of the baby,” he begged her softly when she looked up at him and took a deep, calming breath.

Leroy began to chuckle, his whole body bobbing up and down in the chair he was sitting in.  He shook his head, looking down at his hands.  “You think I don’t know what you are doing?” He laughed.  “Your little good cop, bad cop routine is not going to work on me,” he said firmly.  “You two forget who I am.”

“Have we?” Captain Lucas looked at him sternly, her face as still as stone.  “Or have you, Leroy?  Do you even know who you are anymore?” She reached forward once more, picking up another file that looked newer and like it had been well stored.  It was Leroy’s personnel file and when she flipped it open, she tossed page after page of commendations and promotions towards him.  Finally, when Leroy looked away in disgust, she tossed the crime scene photo of Liam’s murder back across the metal surface, making sure it landed exactly where he could see it.  “Are you a good cop gone bad, or have you always been a son of a bitch?”

Emma looked up at the Captain’s curse, never having heard the seemingly sweet old lady say much more than ‘shoot’ before.  In a way, Emma wasn’t sure why she was surprised.  

“She’s not the Captain for nothing,” Killian smirked at Emma, reading her mind.

“We know you killed Liam Jones,” Captain Lucas said seriously, pressing her fingers together in front of her.  “We know you did it for Gold.  You are finished, Leroy.  Done.  You are not a cop anymore.  After today, you are nothing,” She looked up, catching Emma’s eye.  “Isn’t that right, Detective Swan?”

The signal.  There it was.  Time to bring out the big guns.

Emma nodded and moved to face the short, bearded man once more.  “That’s right,” she agreed, moving around the table.  Leroy watched her nervously when she reached for the photograph and shoved the paper in his face.  “And you see that?” She pointed out a small, green square in the not so distant background on the photograph.  “That looks like a sign, wouldn’t you agree, Captain?”

Captain Lucas lifted her head so her glasses fell backward up her nose and she squinted at the image.  “Oh yeah, that’s the Maine state line sign,” she nodded confidently, letting her glasses fall back down her nose.  “On the Piscataqua River Bridge, I’d say.”

“The Maine/New Hampshire state line...Swan, what are you getting at?”

“Oh,” Emma feigned surprise and stepped back.  Maybe it was the start of morning sickness, but the rotten stench of corruption that eliminated from the man beside her was too much.  “Doesn’t New Hampshire have the death penalty?” She gave Killian a gleeful smirk.

“Bloody brilliant!” Killian exclaimed.

“Sure does,” Captain Lucas agreed with a grin, watching a bead of sweat roll down Leroy’s forehead as realisation set in.

“And this photograph looks pretty close,” Emma tossed the photo back onto the table, pacing beside it, tapping her lips as she pretended to think.

“I think you are right,” Captain Lucas grinned wider, watching her young prodigy work.  She had always known Emma would be one of her best detectives, but watching her take on a seasoned veteran of the force, making him sweat under her interrogation just confirmed it.

Emma gasped out loud, clapped her hands together and Leroy jumped about a foot from the chair he was sitting on.  He landed back down with a clatter, his handcuffs and chain rattling through the metal loop welded to the table.  “Do you know what?” Emma turned to the Captain, snapping her fingers and pointing at her with a wide eyed grin.  “I bet the New Hampshire boys would love this!  Catching a cop killer!”

“I can give them a call?” Captain Lucas offered, planting her hands on the edge of the table and readying herself to rise.

“Wait!” Leroy shouted, slamming his balled fists on the table.  “Just...wait a second…” He sounded panicked and Emma enjoyed the rush that flushed over her body.

“Swan, I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, you are a marvel and I love you!” Killian declared gleefully, rushing to her side.  “Scare him with the death penalty!  Perfect!”

“So what’s it going to be, Leroy?” Captain Lucas’s voice was harsher, her ultimatum clear.  “Your life or Gold’s?”

Leroy sighed, hanging his head.  “Set it up.  I’ll wear the wire.”

The tape itched under his shirt, pulling against his chest hair every time that he took a step down the ever lengthening hallway towards Gold’s office.  It never seemed to get any brighter, instead enveloping him in the darkness that had taken over his life for so long.  Leroy was nervous, the tension in the hall palpable as he finally reached the end of the dimly lit corridor and reached for the ominously marked door to Gold’s office.

“Ah, Detective,”Gold said cheerily without even looking up from the desk in front of him.  He was signing some documents, untoward no doubt, and Leroy knew not to take too much notice of them.  Gold’s pen swished across the paper effortlessly, the dull thud of the end of his signature shattering the silence in the room.  He closed the green, leather bound document holder and handed it to Hyde, finally looking up to meet Leroy’s gaze with a sly grin.  “What can I do for you?”

“I need a favour,” Leroy said confidently, striding into the office even further once Gold’s henchmen had made themselves scarce.  He knew that the mob boss couldn’t resist the chance to make a deal.  Gold loved to be owed and Captain Lucas had told Leroy to appeal to his greedier side.

Gold motioned to the chair opposite his huge, hardwood desk and Leroy took a seat.  The luxuriously soft leather squeaked and groaned under his weight and it felt supple under his fingertips that clutched at the arm.  It was expensive, obviously, and Leroy realised that no one was ever going to be better than Gold.  He would always be fodder, easily dismissed with the crack of a gun and sting of a bullet.

Gold’s face lit up and he sat forward in his high back leather chair.  “A favour, you say?” he leered with a grin.  “I like the sound of that.”

“The cop…” Leroy stopped mid sentence, heeding the Captain’s instructions not to implicate knowledge of Gold’s deeds outright.

“Remember, we need him to say it, not you…”

“The cop that...died,” Leroy emphasised the last word with a nod of his head.

“Terrible accident,” Gold feigned sympathy.  “Such a shame,” he lied.

“Yes, well, his girlfriend is sniffing around,” Leroy lied, trying desperately to hide the threat of a stutter in his words.  Gold narrowed his eyes and calmly rubbed his thumb against his fingers, a nervous twitch that Leroy had noticed before.

“That pretty little blonde thing?” Gold smirked and his tongue darted out to moisten his lips.  “What does she want?”

“She thinks it was a hit,” Leroy shrugged casually, eyes dropping to watch the shake that had developed in his leg.  “She keeps coming to the precinct going on and on about how her boyfriend was murdered.  Frankly, it’s getting annoying,” he huffed.

“I am failing to see how I can help you,” Gold said slightly annoyed that Leroy was wasting his time with such a frivolous story.  He was smart, he hadn’t been a crime boss for so long without intelligence after all, and Leroy knew it wouldn’t be easy to get anything from Gold that would send the barrage of armed police officers waiting outside crashing through the door.  It was time to play dirty.

“Your name came up,” Leroy said.

“My name? In what context?” Gold prodded, well and truly intrigued.  

“She has files, proof, connecting you to some murder back in the day.  Says it was her boyfriend’s parents,” Leroy swallowed hard and when he looked up, Gold was staring at his own hands that were clenched tightly together in front of him.

The underarms of Leroy’s shirt were already soaked from his interrogation but were even more so now.  If Gold found out what he was up to, there would be no need for a murder trial.  He would be dead before he even reached the door.  Leroy gulped hard, lightly scratching his beard and snaking his hand to rub at the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry so much Leroy,” the Captains words echoed in his head.  “You’re not dead until you are cold and dead.”

“She thinks you…” Leroy began but was silenced when Gold lifted his gaze once more and pressed a finger to his lips.  The muscles in Gold’s jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth and he inhaled hard.  If it wasn’t one cop causing so many problems in his life, it was all of them.  How many would he have to rid himself of before he was free from their torment?

“Her name,” Gold said darkly.

Leroy’s brow furrowed in confusion for a second and he shook his head.  “Her name is Emma Swan,” he said, still confused.  “What are you going to do?” Leroy shocked himself at his own bravery, the prickly heat of adrenaline surging through his body and covering his skin.

“Oh Leroy,” Gold sang eerily.  “I am not going to do anything.”  He pushed himself back away from his desk, the wheels of his chair moving across the floor silently.  Gold reached for his cane and once he was on his feet, he began pacing behind his desk, tapping the brass tip of the walking aid onto the floor.

“But what if the Captain decides to take a look at what she has?” Leroy offered into Gold’s thought process.  

“I didn’t say you were not going to do anything about it,” Gold sneered, pointing the shiny tipped point of his cane towards Leroy’s chest.  A few more inches and he would make contact, undoubtedly prodding the microphone of his wire and blowing the whole operation.  Leroy gulped hard and shot a look at the cane hanging between them.

“What do you mean?” Leroy stammered.

“You are going to make her go away,” Gold whispered, his voice deeper and full of a mixture of anger and resentment.

“But you said we were even, when I killed Liam Jones for you,” Leroy’s voice turned into panic, albeit faked, but he figured that if Gold suspected anything about being recorded, confessing to the murder of another officer might seem like he was a little bit more genuine.  

“And now we are unbalanced once again,” Gold sneered, pulling the cane back to his side and stamping it onto the floor once more.  “Emma Swan has to go and you suddenly owe me.”

And there it was.  Gold’s deal.  All Leroy needed now was for him to confirm it as per the Captain’s orders and he would be spared the death penalty.  Leroy shuffled awkwardly in his chair and teetered on the edge of the soft, red leather.  “You want me to kill Emma Swan?”

There wasn’t even a paused before, through gritted teeth, Gold snapped his head to look at Leroy once again and gave him a slow nod.  “Kill Emma Swan.  Make it look like an accident.  Make it look like she blew her brains out through grief, I don’t care.  And get me those files she has,” Gold added quickly, his thumb rubbing the side of his finger again as he contemplated what they might contain.  “I want Emma Swan dead and I want those files.”

The next five minutes of Leroy’s life were a blur in slow motion.  There were two doors to Gold’s office and they simultaneously burst open, each kicked nearly off their hinges by a SWAT officer dressed head to toe in black kevlar and velcro straps.  Gold was tackled to the floor, the shouting and barked orders coming from the SWAT team leader lost in the hum of silence as Leroy went deaf, his hands were wrenched behind his back and the cool metal of handcuffs met his wrists.  

Captain Lucas strode into the room with Emma in tow, both of them wearing a ballistics vest and wry smiles.  Gold watched the scene with an arrogant smirk, still believing he was untouchable.  He had been raided before but nothing had ever stuck.  Everybody had their price and Gold had the means to meet each and every sum of money that stood in his way.  That was, until he had failed to corrupt a certain, almost elderly Captain and her young wolf cub prodigy who he had now come to realise was Emma Swan.  The SWAT officer yanked him to his feet and he tried to shake off his grip with a weak shrug as, standing eye to eye with Captain Lucas, he smirked slyly.

“Captain,” he said, the words slithering from his lips like the snake he was.  “What a surprise.”

“The only surprise here is how stupid you are, Gold,” Captain Lucas shot a glance at Leroy as he was led from the room, head hung low as another officer fiddled with removing the recording device and microphone from his body, slipping them both into an evidence bag and sealing it shut.  Gold watched, his jaw hanging open slightly as he realised what had just happened.

“Gold,” Emma began, stepping forward and catching his attention with a commanding voice.  “You are under arrest for the solicitation of the murder of Emma Swan.  You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say can be used against you.  You have the right to an attorney.  If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you by the court...”

“This is a mistake. Laughable, really,” Gold interrupted with a chuckle..

“Still an arrogant bastard I see,” Captain Lucas smiled sweetly at him.

“Still a dried up has been of a cop I see,” Gold retorted with a spiteful tone.  Captain Lucas simply smiled, wrinkling her nose so that her glasses moved up the bridge a little more, and stepped forward until she was almost leaning against him.

“We got you Gold.  You’re finished,” Captain Lucas spat at him, her face so close to his she could almost feel his dread.  “Get him out of here!”  she shouted into the room before Gold’s cries of protest fell on the deaf ears of everyone as he was dragged out of his office to the waiting police car.

[thecomicsnexus]

The Slot Machine Racket

SUPERMAN #5 JUNE 1940 BY JERRY SIEGEL, JOE SHUSTER, WAYNE BORING, PAUL CASSIDY AND PAUL LAURETTA

SYNOPSIS (FROM DC DATABASE)

On their way to the Daily Planet one morning, Clark Kent and Lois Lane witness a shopkeeper enticing two boys on their way to school to try out a new slot machine. Promising they might triple their lunch money, he then gleefully watches as the boys pour all of their coins into the rigged game. Lois and Clark try to object at the obvious scam, but the shopkeeper angrily orders them to leave his property. Clark obliges, much to Lois' dissatisfaction. One of the boys inside notices that he only has ten minutes to get to class and, not wanting to be tardy, rushes out of the store, leaving his friend behind, who is much too mesmerized by playing the slots to care. As the boy runs across the street, he fails to notice an oncoming truck. In a rare act of bravery, Clark tackles the boy to the pavement, the truck passing over their bodies while they keep their heads down. Clark then makes the boy promise to always be aware of his surroundings, and to keep away from slot machines in the future. Lois hurries over to check on Clark. For once, she was proud of him for not being a coward. Not wanting anyone to catch on to his secret identity as Superman, Clark Kent feigns a fainting spell. Lois retracts her previous statement. Clark will always be a wuss.

Lois takes Clark into a shop for a glass of water. After "recovering," Clark notices a slot machine in this shop, too. Mr. Jensen, the owner, says that Slug Kelly's goons put it in, and threatened him if he ever removed it. He sees kids using it all the time, and it boils his blood every time they lose their money to the thing. Upset with the idea that children could be turned into hopeless gamblers, Lois decides to meet with this "Slug" Kelly. Clark goes with her, playing up the "scared reporter" act.

At first, when she demands to see him, "Slug" assumes Lois is here for a donation. Once she makes her true intentions known, that she wanted Slug to remove his slot machines and leave town, he responds by having her and Clark locked up in separate rooms. While Clark secretly changes into his Superman garb, Slug forces Lois to sign a document saying that her editor, George Taylor, was a willing participant with Slug Kelly and his mob. He then sends one of his men out to deliver it to the Planet's rival newspaper, the Morning Pictorial. This would make it impossible for her to print any story about the racket without implicating the Daily Planet as well. Meanwhile, Superman breaks through his locked door and heads down the hallway, to a room holding all the slot machines that haven't been installed in shops and businesses yet. He goes about smashing them up, which alerts Slug and his men. They go to investigate, finding Superman smashing the last of their machines. But try as they might, Slug's goons are no match for the Man of Steel. Once the mobsters flee, Superman rescues Lois and heads back in for the secret records Slug was keeping about the operation. Lois waits until Clark Kent emerges from the building, looking confused as he explains that Superman "saved" him. He has the documents in his hands.

The 'Morning Pictorial' comes out the next day with the front page story of George Taylor's dealings with the slot rackets. In his office, Taylor is furious with Lois, until she explains that she was forced to sign the confession against her will. Taylor decides to print the story about Slug Kelly anyway. Clark slips into a storeroom to change again into Superman, and begins his one-man mission to get rid of all the slot machines around town! Most of the shop owners are more than happy to let him take the machines away. All except for the one under Slug's employ, who tries to threaten Superman, unsuccessfully, with a knife. Superman crushes the machine with his bare hands right in front of the crooked store owner, rendering him speechless.

Mr. Jensen, hearing of Superman's crusade, finally musters up the courage he needs to remove the slot machine from his business. Just as he begins moving it, though, Slug and his boys pull up in their car. Slug is already angry from the mess Superman has made, and now seeing Jensen disobeying him was the last straw! He got out of the car to teach the innocent shopkeeper a lesson. Luckily, Superman drops between them and blocks Slug's right hook. After helping Jensen smash the machine, the Man of Steel tosses Slug back into the car and carries the vehicle with him to the schoolyard. From atop the school roof, he makes Slug shout his confession to the children below, that his machines were rigged and they could never have won.

In court, the kids serve as witnesses to the testimony, and Slug and his goons are locked up. And at the Planet, with the help of the records Clark took from Slug's office, George Taylor is cleared of any wrongdoing.

Alex Evell, crooked politician, walks into the publisher's office of the Morning Pictorial, offering a measly sum of 25 grand to buy the newspaper. Publisher Zachary Collum scoffs at the offer, saying he wouldn't sell even if he was offered a million dollars. Evell changes tactics and threatens Collum's family if he doesn't sell. Later in the offices of the Daily Planet, word of the Pictorial's buyout reaches Clark and Lois.

As the days pass, anyone who speaks out against Alex Evell or his policies is vilified in the Morning Pictorial. He even helps the mobsters who've had their operations mucked up by the cops, printing a story that says the Police Department was employing third-degree tactics, ruining their reputation. Lois and Clark go to the chief of police to get a statement for the Daily Planet, and learn that Evell was printing lies. Clark Kent decides to type up an article that should set the record straight.

Evell pays a visit to the Planet's publisher, Burt Mason, to warn him of printing any more stories against him, but Mason isn't intimidated. Evell then offers to buy the Daily Planet. Still, Mason won't budge, so Evell storms off, telling him he'll be sorry!

Evell makes good on his threat the following days, as George Taylor receives an anonymous call that one of the Daily Planet's trucks was attacked by thugs. Clark is sent out to investigate, with Lois tagging along. The pair find the truck in flames as a thug stands by. He warns the reporters that if their boss doesn't sell to Evell, there will be more "accidents" like this one! After reporting back to Taylor, Lois is told to stay inside for her own safety, while he sends Clark out to keep getting news, to show that the Planet won't be intimidated. As Superman, Clark takes it upon himself to protect the outgoing news trucks, and put a stop to any sabotage efforts. One of the routes is barricaded off by trucks belonging to the Morning Pictorial, so Superman easily ejects the drivers and stacks the vehicles sideways on top of each other 'like a deck of cards'. Every time a Daily Planet truck is blocked or attacked, Superman dispatches the threat. It doesn't take long for word of these heroics to reach Alex Evell's office. Superman eavesdrops as Evell orders one of his hired goons to find Lois Lane, whom he knows Superman is fond of, and kidnap her.

Lois receives a call from Evell's henchman pretending to be on the Bentley Hospital staff, telling her Clark Kent had an accident and was asking to see her. As soon as she arrives, however, Lois is forced by thugs into a car and driven back to the office building. Unknown to them, Superman has hitched a ride beneath the vehicle. Evell has Lois tied up in his office as he stations his men in the halls to ambush the man of steel when he arrives. Of course, since Superman already had knowledge of the kidnapping, he bursts through Evell's door almost immediately! While his men fire their guns at him, Evell moves Lois to an adjoining room where he begins making a fire to kill the man of steel, not caring if his own men get caught in the flames as well. He then grabs Lois and flees with her outside to his car.

Superman quickly defeats the gunmen, even moving them outside to save them from the burning building. Behind him, Evell drives up and attempts to ram his car into Superman, but it's just like hitting a wall! Evell is pulled out of the vehicle, but refuses to confess to his crimes. His former thugs-for-hire feel differently, not appreciating the way Evell would have left them for dead. As he delivers his quarry to the police station, Lois tries to press him for information about himself, but Superman refuses to answer her.

The next day, the story gets out about Alex Evell's arrest. The Morning Pictorial once again belongs to its rightful publisher, and the Daily Planet returns to its routine reporting without further interference.

An economic recession hits the US, as millions lose their jobs, businesses shut down, and hunger erupts. Clark Kent goes out to interview some of Metropolis's leading financiers to get their opinions. Strangely, in the office of everyone he interviews, Clark picks up the faint odor of incense. When he asks one Mr. Gregory about the scent, the man starts to fidget, not giving a straight answer. After Clark leaves, his super hearing picks up Gregory talking on the phone, saying that a nosy reporter from the Daily Planet was snooping around.

Later, when Clark is across the street from the Planet, his telescopic vision picks up an object flying over the building, dropping miniature bombs. Taking off his outer garments to reveal his Superman outfit, he leaps to intercept the bombs, catching each and every one and dumping them into the river. Changing back into his reporter clothes, Clark returns to Mr. Gregory's office for some answers. Gregory has phoned the police, and then shoots himself in the chest so that Clark will be implicated in his murder. His final words are that he was just following orders. Clark leaps out the window to the roof of an adjoining building before the police enter the room. Determined to solve this mystery, Clark sneaks into another office where he smelled incense, that of Borden Mosely, and discovers a bust of his old enemy Luthor hidden behind a curtain with a smoking cigar in its mouth. Mosely and two goons discover him snooping, and throw Clark down an elevator shaft. But Clark can't be killed so easily. Once he lands safely at the bottom, he becomes Superman again and knocks out the two incoming goons, after which he races up the side of a neighboring skyscraper and uses his X-Ray vision to spy on Mosely. The bust seems to be transmitting a message to Mosely, who immediately heads to the roof where an autogyro awaits him. The autogyro carries Mosely out of Metropolis, with Superman keeping pace with it from below.

In a mountainous region, Superman follows Borden Mosely into a secret cavern. Traps are set to catch uninvited guests, which Superman has no trouble disabling. At the end of the cave, Mosely stands before the a viewscreen that shows the image of Luthor. Luthor gives Mosely information on which stock to invest in, asking for 75% of the profit for the tip. Superman interrupts the little exchange to tell Luthor his evil career ends now! Of course, being prepared for his old rival's eventual appearance, Luthor activates a trap which causes the cavern to collapse. Superman rescues Mosely from the cave-in and asks him about Luthor's other victims. Mosely explains that with the help of a narcotic incense, Luthor enslaves the minds of the nation's top investors. Mosely had a list of all Luthor's victims within a vault in his office, which he hastily agrees to show Superman.

When they get back to Mosely's office, Borden opens the vault for Superman. As soon as the Man of Steel enters inside, however, the vault door is closed shut behind him! Mosely is at first relieved, but his relief turns to shock when Superman breaks through the heavy door of the vault and grabs hold of him. Superman makes him reveal where Luthor will hold his next meeting: The Garriston tower. By pinching a small pressure point in Mosely's neck, he sends the financier into a slumber. Then, dying his hair and rearranging his facial features to look like Mosely, Superman swoops off.

Some of America's most prominent men are present at the conference, all of them enslaved by Luthor's incense. Soon, Luthor enters, and the others begin offering their reports on businesses that they closed down to manipulate the stock market. Once it's Borden Mosely's turn, the disguised Superman begins to stand, but then Luthor orders his armed guards to cover the exits. He knew it was his old rival the entire time, threatening Superman that if he doesn't join forces, Luthor will order his men to gun down everyone in the room. What the villain didn't count on was Superman's amazing speed! In the time of a single second, the Man of Steel has disarmed and incapacitated the thugs. Luthor makes an escape in his hidden plane that detaches from the side of the building, but Superman intercepts it in a head-on collision. It appears to be the end of the mad Luthor as the plane sinks into the bay.

Morton Craig is arrested on charges of grand larceny. A surprise to Clark Kent, since Morton is supposedly one of the most honest men he knows. He pays Morton a visit in his cell, but can't get an answer from him. He only asks Clark to call Doctor Bren.

Later when Dr. Bren arrives, he administers Craig with an injection, explaining it'll help with his anemia. As Clark leaves, his super hearing overhears Craig telling the doctor that if he's not released from jail, he'll tell the police everything. Dr. Bren promises to see if anything can be done. If there was a connection between Bren and Morton Craig's arrest, Clark was determined to find it, as Superman.

Doctor Bren doesn't notice that he is being followed as he drives back to a drab old edifice and walks in. From the adjoining building's rooftop, Superman's X-Ray vision lets him look in on the happening inside. The doctor is meeting with the mobster Carlin, delivering Morton Craig's message about freeing him. Carlin sends his boys to eliminate Craig, but the Man of Steel has other ideas. He catches the thugs' car and causes it to crash, right in front of a police officer. Once they're placed under arrest, Superman returns to see where Carlin would head next. The mobster's destination: the laboratory of world renowned chemist, Professor Carl Grinstead. But why?

As Superman continues his surveillance, he learns that Professor Grinstead had invented a new formula, which he calls Parabiolene, and Carlin has been fooling the professor into sharing it with him under the false pretense of Carlin giving it to the sick and helpless, when he's really been using it as an addictive drug to blackmail others into doing his bidding just for another hit. Suddenly, a suspicious thug walks out onto the roof, forcing Superman to tackle him, causing them both to fall through the skylight. Superman feigns being unconscious as Carlin orders his men to take him out to the bridge and feed him to the fishes.

On arrival at the bridge, the boys fire their slugs into Superman's body and toss him over the side into the water. The whole time, Superman let them think they had killed him, just so he could follow them back to the factory where they illegally mass produce the Parabiolene. Imagine their shock when they find that not only is Superman still alive, but also that he's unaffected by their bullets! Nothing they can do stops the Man from Krypton from destroying every last machine in Carlin's factory. Superman grabs their guns and twists them into knots, finally ending his spree by crashing out through the wall.

Back at the lab, Superman arrives just in time to prevent Carlin from murdering Grinstead. While Carlin and his thugs try take down the meddling superhero, the professor, completely distraught at the idea of his formula being used in such an evil manner, does the only thing he thinks he can do. Pouring two chemicals together, Grinstead creates an explosion in his lab, taking his own life in payment for the harm he's caused. Superman carries him to the hospital, letting the police take Carlin and the others into custody. There was nothing the doctors could do to save Grinstead, though there was one more option to consider... With amazing speed, Superman finds Dr. Bren and convinces him to help the professor. Using the Parabiolene, Bren and Superman watch as Grinstead's eyes start to flitter open. The formula worked! Miraculously, the professor is alive again! Superman tells Grinstead not to give up on his creation; in the right hands it can serve as a boon for humanity.

REVIEW

I guess artificial fever machines were very popular in 1940.

Superman gains two super-powers in this issue (photographic memory and shape shifting). Plus, he reveals that he made his indestructible suit.

It is safe to say that by this point, Superman is running on fumes. Siegel is clearly exhausted, trying to create new stories to tell with the character, and it is also clear that this comic is a bit less violent now (an focused in presenting a better role model to kids). Some changes need to be made to add some depth into Superman’s world.

The stories, however, cleverly use Lois and Clark as they investigate the crimes. It is easy for readers nowadays to think of Clark Kent as a disguise and not the other way around. This is more true to the character.

Superman is looking more and more like the one we know, but at the same time, there is little innovation in the art (other strips, like Blue Beetle played a bit more with angles and perspective).

I give this issue a score of 6