Series: Tales of Vesperia
A/N: Occupation bingo. Based on a silly conversation bad0mens and I had about Flynn and Yuri as cops.
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.
Yuri offered up a powdered doughnut over the console of the patrol car. “Sure you don't want one?”
“I'm sure,” Flynn said shortly.
“Your loss.” He shrugged and took a large bite, ignoring the dusting of sugar that drifted down to accumulate on his uniform.
Flynn hadn't even glanced away from the road, although there wasn't much to see. The streets leading back to their station were nearly empty. After a ridiculously busy night that had included two convenience store robberies, three false alarms, half a dozen speeding tickets, and the arrest of a drunk driver, Flynn was more than ready for the end of the graveyard shift. Yuri, on the other hand, seemed unfazed. It was amazingly irritating.
“You're getting crumbs everywhere. Don't think I'm going to stay late to help you vacuum out the car.”
Yuri snickered around his mouthful of doughnut. “Don't think I'm gonna vacuum.”
Annoyed but not surprised by the response, Flynn heaved a sigh. “You are such a stereotype. All you need is a flabby gut hanging over your belt, and you'll be a walking caricature of a fat, lazy, doughnut-hogging cop.”
“Hey!” Yuri sat forward to glare, but leaned back again just as quickly. “It isn't hogging if I offered to share,” he said with a grin.
When Flynn glanced his way, he shoved the last of the doughnut into his mouth and chewed loudly. Flynn merely curled his lip and looked back to the road.
“Besides,” Yuri said, twisting around to peer over the seats and out the back window, “you're the lazy one. That guy back there is jaywalking.”
“I see him. He looked both ways, and there's no other traffic right now. I'm not putting us into overtime because of a technical infraction.”
“Why don't we take a ride down Nor Street—”
“We are almost back at the station, Yuri. We are not going looking for more trouble. Maybe you slept through that meeting about excess overtime in our department, but I didn't, and we—”
Yuri surged forward, one hand bracing himself against the dash and the other stretching right in front of Flynn's face to point out the window. Startled, Flynn jerked the wheel. The car rocked as he straightened out and shoved Yuri away.
“Yuri! What the hell?”
Checking the rear view mirror, Flynn saw a teenager waiting at the crossing they'd just driven through. He wasn't sure what Yuri had seen her drop, but: “She's just a kid. Quit goofing off.”
“Now who's the lazy cop?” Yuri drawled. He knew just how to pitch his voice to best grate on Flynn's nerves.
“You are,” Flynn said, voice tight. “You're only screwing around right now, and we both know it. If we run across an actual crime, I'll stop. Barring that, we are heading back to the station and I am going to clock out and go home and get some rest.”
They hadn't made it two blocks down the street when a large, black car swung around the corner onto the road ahead of them, cutting them off. Flynn hit the brakes and gritted his teeth.
“Didn't even use a turn signal,” Yuri pointed out. “Wasn't there some sort of law about that kind of thing? And maybe something about who has right-of-way?”
“It's fine. Shut up.”
“Better loosen your grip. I think there's dents forming in the wheel. Are there regs about destruction of police property?”
Flynn ignored him. They were almost back. Less than five minutes to go. He could keep a rein on his temper for that long.
“He's going pretty fast.” Yuri gestured at the radar, a crooked, challenging smirk twisting his lips.
“Not much faster than us.”
The car was just barely going fast enough to increase the distance between them. Secretly, Flynn was glad of it. He'd always been quietly annoyed by drivers who would drop down to just below the speed limit when they found themselves in front of a patrol car, as if they would never dream of speeding. Getting trapped behind paranoid drivers like that drove Yuri absolutely crazy. He never would have mentioned it in the first place if he hadn't been needling Flynn.
Ahead of them, the light turned yellow. Flynn got ready to break. The car in front of them pulled a little further away.
“Is he trying to make it?” Yuri sat forward, watching.
“He doesn't have enough time. He'll stop.”
The light turned red. The car sped up.
“Guess again,” Yuri said.
The car ahead of them sped through the light into the intersection, turning sharply up the other road as an oncoming truck slammed on the brakes, horn blaring angrily over the near collision. Flynn brought the patrol car to a halt at the light as the truck picked up speed again to continue on its way.
Leaning forward to watch the black car speed up the road, Yuri caught Flynn's eye and smirked. “Never a cop around when you need one.”
For one furious moment, Flynn met his stare. Then, he flipped on the siren and peeled out into the intersection, racing after the car. Beside him, Yuri whooped, both hands on the dashboard as he leaned eagerly forward.
“I don't know why you're so worked up. He's just going to pull over, and then—” Flynn broke off, swearing as the black car sped up, forcing him to give chase.
“You were saying...?”
“Shut up and call it in!”
“Can't do both.” He laughed when Flynn reached for the radio to make the call himself. Yuri pried it out of Flynn's hand before he could say anything.
“Hey, this is car B twenty-two, currently in pursuit down Quoi, headed for Deidon.” He rattled off a description of the vehicle, straining against his seat belt to get even a slightly better view of the license plate.
For his part, Flynn was keeping pace, but not gaining. The other car was racing through the streets, swerving into the opposing lane to get around the few other drivers, and taking hasty turns down side streets to try to shake them off.
“Anybody in the area to help us box this guy in?” Flynn asked.
“Nope.” Yuri sounded almost gleeful. “Just us, partner. Left! Left!”
“I see it!” Inertia dragged them both sideways as Flynn slung the car through another turn. “Why do they try to run?” he grumbled.
“Maybe they don't think fat, lazy, doughnut-hogging cops will bother chasing them?”
“You aren't helping. Why do I even listen to you?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yuri shrug.
“Because you can't resist the pursuit of justice?”
“Oh, ha ha. Hang on!” Reflexively, he threw out an arm in front of Yuri as he was forced to take a sharp turn. The car bounced on its suspension as it came around and its weight resettled.
“I thought you were worried about overtime. Can't this boat go any faster?”
The engine roared as Flynn hit the gas. “How is it you only seem to remember what I tell you if you can throw it back in my face?”
“Got me. Pretty handy, though.”
“Quit being a smart ass and update dispatch.”
“Quit asking me stupid questions, then.”
He got back on the radio, keeping up a steady stream of chatter regarding their location as they raced through the narrow downtown streets, heading toward the suburbs. Horns blared and brakes squealed as they encountered other drivers, and above it all, the siren wailed on. As his concentration focused entirely on the chase, Flynn stopped hearing the cacophony, stopped hearing even Yuri's words as he relayed information to dispatch. They were gaining while going straight, but falling behind again with every turn. Flynn was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to wait for an empty stretch of road to try a PIT maneuver, when luck took his side.
Speeding through another turn, the fleeing car jumped the curb and fishtailed. The driver wasn't able to straighten out in time, and the car rammed into a streetlight, bringing it to a halt. Flynn came around the corner after it a second later. The clatter of the radio as Yuri dropped it helped to widen his focus once more as he pulled up to the accident.
Yuri was unbuckled and opening his door before Flynn had even stopped the car. It was just as well, because the driver they'd been chasing wasn't sticking around. He abandoned his car and took off on foot. Flynn threw the patrol car into park and radioed in a quick update as he got out. Yuri was already racing after the driver, braid flapping behind him as he ran. He shouted a warning only a moment before he came close enough to get a grip on the man's shirt and tackle him to the ground.
In moments, Flynn was at his side. He dropped to his knees next to Yuri to handcuff the struggling man, read him his rights, and advise him of the charges against him. They'd racked up from the original running a red light to include failure to stop for police, reckless endangerment, and attempting to leave the scene of an accident. Once he saw that Flynn had everything in hand, Yuri stood. He hovered, shifting his weight restlessly until Flynn finished and looked up at him. Yuri was lit up with adrenaline and success, and Flynn found that his earlier irritation with him had faded.
“Nice driving,” Yuri said. He was beaming and bright-eyed despite their long night. Some combination of the excitement on his face and the juxtaposition of their positions conjured up a sensory memory that was entirely inappropriate for the situation, but sent a shiver up Flynn's spine nevertheless. For just a moment, Yuri's smile changed. His eyes glittered, and Flynn got the distinct impression that Yuri knew exactly what he was thinking.
His suspicion was confirmed as they were waiting for backup to arrive to clean up the scene. With the man in custody locked into the back of the patrol car while they leaned against it side-by-side, Yuri tilted his head just a bit closer and murmured: “Your place or mine?”
“Mine,” he replied just as quietly. He forced himself to stand still and not fidget, even more eager than before to hurry up and get home. They could have already been on their way if Yuri had simply been able to keep his mouth shut earlier, and he mentioned as much.
Predictably, Yuri laughed. “You're the one who gets off on anticipation,” he said under his breath.
Of course he would remember that. Flynn looked him up and down as Yuri grinned. “There's powdered sugar on your uniform,” he said in retort.