Cruel Yet Agreeable Punishment (Closed with michime)

[Regifortis]

Detective McArthur kneeled over the toilet bowl for the fifth time that week. Not even a month after the impossible happened, and he was sick?! Fan-shitting-tastic. He finally found a place to put the kid up for adoption, and it looked like he was going to find a good home. That was a relief. He suspected that the station saw him and that suspect he released try to sneak out a baby from the interrogation room...but if they did, they kept mum about it. Maybe he was wrong about them? Or maybe he was worrying himself over nothing, when there was plenty else to make him upset about the way his life was going.

That Tuesday night, three weeks ago...God spat in his face, and he had to pull down his pants and shove a baby boy out of his butt. He was pregnant, by means unknowable to a mere mortal like him, apparently. And now it was as if he had morning sickness, what a joke.

...He didn't, did he? Nah. Just a bug, it was going around.

But three months after that, even after the bug had gone, he tried to fit into a smaller size of his uniform. The button on his pants wouldn't close. He strained to make it work. But...his waist was too big. He had gotten bigger. Looking in the mirror, his butt, his waist, even his chest, and...his belly. The same subtle swell from when he started gaining weight, when he was pregnant before.

"...I need to move," he told the mirror. "If I'm some cosmic joke, I'm not gonna sit around to be laughed at!"

[michime]

A heavy hand knocked on McArthur's door making sure that anyone in the building right now would be able to hear. 

"McArthur!  Open up!"  A deep masculine voice boomed as another round of knocking began.  "McArthur!  You in there!" 

Before the cop could make his way to the door, the door unlocked and a burly men with a full beard and heavy jut stepped into the apartment with two armed uniformed cops behind him. 

"Pack it up!"  The big man called over his shoulder and a crew of seven men dressing in blue jumpsuits filed into the apartment.  "McAruthur get your ass out here!" 

[Regifortis]

"THE SHIT?! BACK THE FUCK OFF ME BEFORE I--"

But before he could say anything else, McArthur was overpowered and lifted up by the armpits and legs, carried outside, and tossed onto the curb. He tried to rush back in there, but the door locked with a click, and that tool of a landlord didn't yield to his angry pounding and insistence to be let back inside. A moment later, the door opened to let a couple boxes of his belongings be thrown to his feet. Not his mattress, not his safety deposit. Just his police gear, his clothes, and a few things they couldn't sell back that were crammed into old shipping boxes.

He thought of how many different ways he could gut and dismember his landlord before trying to shove his way back in, but all he got was the Beef Brigade forcing him back and the blowhard himself saying his piece: "No one's putting up with your shit anymore! I can't keep people from leaving, and I can't get anyone new to come in! You're bad for business!" And then the front door to the building was slammed right in front of his face.

McArthur nearly wanted to kick down the door like he were raiding the place for drugs. "I KEPT YOU SHITLORDS SAFE, YOU KNOW?! HOW'S THIS FOR GRATITUDE?!" Just because he searched people's places for suspicious activity and did a bit of profiling, he got evicted?! These people clearly did not care about their own safety.

He put a hand on his stomach that he tried to forget was growing. "Wait until the gang fights start around here; we'll see who's really bad for business, then!" He nursed the bruise on his butt and trudged to the station. He had to put in a transfer to a place that didn't know him, and then he needed to...go to the library. It was the only place with Internet where people wouldn't start shit with him for doing his job. McArthur had some apartment hunting to do.

[michime]

The automatic doors slid open as McArthur trudged his pregnant and now homeless ass into the building.  At least it was the middle of a Wednesday so there wasn't a lot of school kids running around or hogging up all the computers.  He could work in peace.  After a lengthy search that turned up nothing and used up all the allocated computer time, McArthur picked up the boxed remains of his life. 

As fate would have it, just as McArthur stood up, he backed into an older man with a handful of 'apartment for rent' flyers in his hand. 

[Regifortis]

"Watch it!", snapped McArthur automatically. "I'm busy, I need to find an..." He spied the flyers. "Apartment..."

Huh. Maybe God wasn't quite as spiteful as he thought. Hell, maybe he was just gaining weight and wasn't actually pregnant again, haha!...A horribly cold chill came over him at the wishful thinking, however. He had absolutely no way to tell, unless he took a...he couldn't believe he thought it at all: unless he took a pregnancy test.

He decided to smile and cover up his 'just had a shitty day' look. "Isn't that funny? The name's Steve McArthur, put 'er there!" But his outstretched hand laid empty in midair, as the old man he was addressing still had his hands full of flyers. He withdrew it after waiting just little while too long. "Um...anyway, I'm interested! Oh, it's in Denver, too, perfect..."

He stood awkwardly in front of his prospective landlord. Ignoring the glares from the receptionist for being too loud, he waited to let the man speak.

[michime]

"You're rude," the old man hissed in a low whisper as he remembered he was in a library.  He watched the man's eyes stare at the fliers in his hand then put them behind his back.   He looked around the library trying to find an escape route from the strange man.  He got the circulation's clerk gaze then waved off her concerned look.  He didn't ignore the fact she picked up the phone ready to call for help.  

"Rude men aren't funny."  The older man slowly backed away from McArthur.  "Why is Denver, perfect?  Who said I would rent an apartment to you?  I don't know care what your name is.  You're very forward and I don't like you.  This is an apartment for a nice man that doesn't snap at people and just someone that just happened to be interested and in need of a place."  He looked down at all the boxes.  "Maybe you should ask nicely and I'll give you one." 

[Regifortis]

Oh, good Lord. This old fuck was gonna wring him out for niceties, wasn't he? He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply. Steve McArthur. Police Detective. Investigator of truth. Protector of the innocent (and those who didn't backtalk him). Homeless. Short on cash. Unpopular. Possibly...possibly, bafflingly pregnant.

He couldn't mess this up. He wiped the smile off his face, prepared to keep his voice low and quiet, and pretended he was at a job interview.

"I'm sorry, sir...I've had a terrible day is all." McArthur rubbed his arm deliberately, as if he were self-conscious. "I just got evicted, and I almost couldn't find a new place to work. But I shouldn't have thrown all my..." He pointed at his head, "mess at you. Let's try this again."

He didn't reach out for a handshake, instead looking the old man square in the eye. "My name is Steve McArthur. I'm looking for a place to live. If you're willing, then I would like to accept one of your vacancies. If you're not," he added with a finely crafted piece of 'humility', "then I'm sorry that I bothered you, and I hope you find other people that suit your requirements better."

[michime]

The old man smiled widely at the sudden change in the man's demeanor.  No he wasn't dumb; he knew it was an act but he could throw the man a bone.  He pulled a flier from behind his back and extended it to Steve.   "There's an open house tonight.  Come by and check out the one vacancy I have.  You're not the only person interested in the place and you'll have to met the other residents." 

He watched as Steve took the flier then quickly added.  "I suggest you cut the 'little boy lost' act that you're trying to pull.  First impressions are very important and while you do turn on those big, wide, innocent eyes quite well, everyone can see right through it.  William Alderman, landlord and property owner."

[Regifortis]

McArthur suppressed the urge to turn his lip at the guy. He had fooled plenty of people before; just because this Alderman character wasn't so dumb didn't mean everyone was so lucky. But whatever. He had a name, and he had the address and phone number. He was in!

More importantly, he had to stick with his lie, at least for now. OJ Simpson didn't get away with murder by just 'cutting the act'. "I'm not sure what you mean, sir, but I'd be happy to look at the place! I can drop by...well, right now, actually. If it's fine, I could just wait until you're done here and go with you. It's no big deal, either way, sir."

[michime]

"Open house is at six," Will gave the pushy man the time with a slight smile.  "You will be there at six and not a minute earlier.  I'm sure a man like you knows the importance of people's time and wouldn't want to disrupt a man's day." 

Will offered his hand this time for a shake.  "I have some other business to attend to but I'll see you at six.  You're more than welcome to check out the address and the area.  The other tenants have a say and it would be unfair to them and the others interested in the apartment if I showed it to you before anyone else."  He watched Steve's face, the nervous twitch of his jaw and the fear in his eyes.  He realized the man needed a place badly but he wasn't about to just let guy have the apartment. "Once you met the others and if they agree, you can move in today.  How does that sound?"   

[Regifortis]

McArthur accepted the handshake. "That sounds just fine, sir." It didn't. "I'll see you at six." He'd have to hope the man had an atomic clock or some shit. If he got turned down because the old fart had an old-timey watch running two minutes fast, he was going to strangle him. He left the man to his business and left the library to do...something in the meantime. Homelessness had a schedule as wide open as the sky.

Or rather, it was usually wide open. The dark clouds threatened to rain on him; thank God he didn't have a normal squad car. If he had to turn that back over to the precinct, he would have just bought a 24-hour gym membership and roughed it out in the changing rooms or something pathetic like that.

He drove into Denver and found the place in question. Certainly a step down from where he lived, but at the very least affordable on his salary. He hoped the tap water didn't have to be boiled...He parked close to the apartment and waited it out. He checked the clock on his phone, waiting in his car, hoping the rain died down. Clatter, clatter, clatter on the roof. If it started hailing, if he had to get his car repaired...! No, no, today was stressful enough. He had to think positive.

5:59. It was pouring. He didn't see anyone outside. Nothing for it: he had to guesstimate how much time was left and just risk it. He got out of the car and hurried to find cover: both from the rain and from prying eyes. He worked his way over to the front door. He checked the clock. Just a little bit...alright, 6:00 on the dot!

He knocked on the door. He knew that just walking in the building would get him chewed out, so he played the nice act a little longer. Even if he ended up a drenched, disgusting dog for his efforts.

[michime]

The door opened five minutes later to a very annoyed Alderman and two other men behid him. One man looked to be in his 70s with a cane and a large hearing aid. The other loomed to be about 50 with a nice beer gut and yellowed teeth.

"You're late," Alderman tapped his watch with a scowl. "You knocked on my door at 6:02. You were supposed to be here at 6. John here," he motioned to the man with the gut had his person here at 6."

[Regifortis]

Oh, no. Oh, no no NO he did not wait through the rain for this fucker to pull something like this. McArthur pulled out his phone, struggling to stay calm, and showed the time display.

"Make sure you've wound that thing before scowling at me, sir! This is connected to the atomic clock in Chicago: this time is the most accurate time in the world! That watch of yours doesn't match up to this!" He waited. No dawning realization. Fine, he was used to pressing his point. He opened up the app settings. "Don't just gawk at me, think it through! Look, the app for it shows that it synchronizes directly with Chicago's clock--"

The three old men in front of him turned away from him and seemed to continue an interrupted conversation. The shit?! Were these fuckers BLIND?! He looked to the phone himself, ready to stab directly at the line of dialogue explaining what he just said, when...'Disconnected' stared back at him.

He dropped the phone. He felt the rain chilling him to the bone. McArthur felt torn: did he unleash the fury of Hell bubbling within his impossibly burdened stomach? Or did he just debase himself like that night in the interrogation room and beg for mercy?

His shoes were swamped, and it started hailing. Begging it was.

"WAIT!" He pulled himself out of his sodden shoes and just let every ounce of his misery show as he tripped and fell to the floor. "MY PHONE MESSED UP; IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I NEED THIS APARTMENT!" He pulled his face up to look at the faces of confusion and mild disgust. He turned to the cane-swinger. "YOU! I'M SURE YOU HAVE FAMILY THAT COULD TAKE CARE OF YOU; YOU SHOULD GET THEM TO TREAT YOU RIGHT!" He turned to the beer-gut boor. "AND I SAW THAT YOU DON'T HAVE A RING. YOU WON'T MEET ANYONE IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD: IT'LL BE MORE OF THE SAME!" He finally turned to the landlord himself. "O-Or maybe that's all bullshit, I don't even know! I can't go on like this! I HAVE PROBLEMS YOU COULDN'T EVEN IMAGINE! Just...please! You say first impressions are important, but they're not EVERYTHING! I'll be good, I'll follow whatever rules you have! I'll even get my rent in early! Just...OH, COME ON, CAN'T YOU SEE I'M DESPERATE, HERE?! I'M...I'M SORRY, OKAY?! I'M SORRY I WAS RUDE TO YOU EARLIER TODAY! Now could you just...give me a fucking chance?!" He stopped to drop his head and catch his breath. Whether out of confusion or just some unfathomable instinct, he let his right hand rest on his stomach.

[michime]

"He does beg so pretty," John smirked at the sight of the man on his knees. "Think he can do anything else pretty?"

The man with the cane scoffed. "He doesn't take responsibity for his actions though. I don't like that in a man."

Will looked down at Steve. "Why are you so desperate? What secrets do you have? A man like you shouldn't need to beg at the feet our age. This isn't the trendy part of the city and it's out of the way."

"I lived in this building for decades," the old man shouted like his hearing aid wasn't working properly. "My family would put me in a home if I lived with them. I'm staying right here."

[Regifortis]

McArthur couldn't believe what he was hearing. These men were content to talk about him as if he wasn't even there! Where did they get off, Hard of Hearing and Pervy of Leering, muttering about whatever issues they had in front of someone who had real problems? What was this world coming to, with fools like these having more or a shot than a policeman who at least got the job done by the end of the day?!

At least the landlord seemed to be listening to him...maybe that was his chance. He ignored the other two and kept trying.

"Mr. Alderman..." He felt tears welling up from stress and humiliation, and he let them flow. "I know it doesn't help my case to say this. But my secrets are none of your business." He sniffed and wipes his face with his wet shirt sleeve. "All you need to know is that I need a place to live like this. I won't cause any trouble. I don't have people following me, or anything weird like that. And my social life is...well, let's just say my old apartment was a one-bedroom affair."

He stood up, trying to give a little more dignity to what he was saying. "I'm a cop. I try to make the city I live in a little safer. I solve crimes. I rub people the wrong way, but what of it? Everyone has their flaws." Even if that usually wasn't his fault, but whatever. "I'm sure you have secrets you couldn't tell me. So please give me the same respect. Or at least just have pity on a homeless, wet policeman. I would not still be here if I didn't need this apartment..."

That was it. He couldn't think of anything else to say. Just like when all the testimony and evidence in court weighed in, it was decision time.

[michime]

"Ohh, we made a big, bad police officer begand cry," John teased as he covered his mouth with his hand in that fake shock way. "Look we all know this city is full of dirty. Why should we let one of those in here? This is a quiet building. Four apartments with four tenants. If we let you in, what's to say your work won't come home with you?"

"I agree with John, Will. He won't tell us why he needs this place. Hr could be one of those cops you heard about onthe news." The old man stopped then turned to Steve. "You look the type that would steal my dentures if you thought they were worth anything."

"I'll show you a little mercy here," Will began, "a week. You have a week to prove to us you're the kind of person we want here. If all of us don't trust you at the end of the week, you go."

[Regifortis]

Oh, Christ...what did this dude even want?! No landlord he ever met acted like this. Sure, he wasn't applying like a normal tenant, but he didn't really have a choice! And he had to impress THESE trumped-up fucks? These self-impressed tools of the bourgeois that somehow thought anyone would be interested in anything they owned or had to say?!

He considered just pulling rank on the guy and telling him to follow standard regulation, or he'd lose his subletting privileges. But...well, that wasn't true. And from the looks of it, he owned this little building. Not to mention that, even if he could press charges on the guy, that meant he'd be down the only opportunity he knew to hide away...Steve McArthur was absolutely, infuriatingly, at their mercy.

God fucking...McArthur took a deep breath and let his face lose its expression gradually. "You have a deal." He offered his hand to shake to Mr. Alderman, and then he offered it to the other two men in turn. Whether or not they accepted didn't matter: he knew the gesture itself was the message here.

[michime]

All three shook Steve's hand before John and the older man went to their apartment leaving Will and Steve alone in the hall. "Word of advice. Old man Murray can't get out much and he doesn't like a lit of noise. Buy him a weeks worth of groceries and keep the music down, and you'll be in his.good graces the rest of your days. John likes cigarettes, grilled steaks, and baseball. Pick up a carton, listen to the game, and have a cook out."

He turned and.motiomed for Steve to follow. "Let me show you the apartment."

[Regifortis]

A week's worth of groceries? Host a cook out? Was he the damned emcee?! This was an apartment building, not a luxury hotel! And he was aiming to be a tenant, not a fucking CATERER! But...he finally had the landlord considering the offer. He kept these raging thoughts to himself and just followed him.

The room itself was...fine. Really, it was. There were no cockroaches or suspicious molds or stains. Maybe a black light would show ghosts of this building's past, but he could suspend his disbelief well enough. The bathroom needed to be cleaned, but he could just ask the...landlord...he could just clean it himself. Already furnished, had a bed frame and mattress, and...two closets? Whatever, he only needed one. He didn't shop like whatever damned woman would need two closets, Christ almighty.

"Alright, then." He didn't know what else to say. But he suspected that Alderman didn't care for pointless dithering, so he quickly - and despite his growing and burning mortification - started a list with the legal pad on the desk. It had a plan for how to please the "gentlemen" in the other apartments. It didn't even register to him that they were just regular tenants and not applicants until halfway through his rant. What a waste of breath those two were...

He let the old man see that he was 'taking it seriously'. Which, regrettably, he was. What choice did he have?! He'd drain his account dry on a security deposit and the first month, and he was gonna have to spend the rest of it on food and entertainment for those tools as well as himself! He didn't even get a chance to meet the rest of the precinct here in Denver, why did shit like this keep happening?! if he wasn't bankrupt by the end of the month, it'd be a goddamn miracle.

He felt his stomach gurgle. A burning and passionate dread swept through him...he'd have to find some way to get a pregnancy test, too. Without these fools knowing about it. He just hoped he didn't start getting cravings or an appetite increase during this whole circus of misery.

[michime]

Will ignored the pissed off, annoyed look on Steve's face and instead showed him a bit more of the apartment including AC unit,  the water valve shut off for the sink, and the washer/dryer hookups.  "You can paint the walls if you want.  Not everyone like grey walls.  I would ask you don't go with neon colors."  He made small talk as they moved in and out of the space.  "All the electrical is new so you don't have to worry about blown fuses." 

"I'll give you a break if you make the week," Will offered as he showed the apartment, "no security deposit and a break on the first's month rent. How does that sound?"  The landlord then walked over to a door on the side wall.  He opened it to ravel another door.  "My place is on the other side.  If you need anything just knock."

He turned back and gave Steve a curious look.  "Are you okay?  You look green."  He asked.  "I got some seltzer water if you need it."