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vocab_drabbles2022-11-13 12:59 am
mxcatmoon) wrote in vocab_drabbles2022-11-13 12:59 am
Entry tags:
#033 Bellicose - Riptide - In the Line of Duty
Title: In the Line of Duty
Fandom: Riptide
Author: Cat Moon
Rating: PG
Words: 563
Characters: Nick, Cody, Murray (Quinlan mentioned)
Warnings: Canon (supporting) character death
Summary: Honoring a departed comrade.
Notes: This is a post “Requiem for Icarus” fic but stands on its own. It was my own head-canon back in the day, regarding Lt. Quinlan.
RIP to Jack Ging, aka Lt. Ted Quinlan, who passed away two months ago, at the age of 90.
Nick and Cody sat on the Riptide, watching as the sun went down over the Pacific Ocean. It was a spectacular sight, but today tempered by the somber mood. Lieutenant Ted Quinlan had died in the line of duty while helping them take down the human smuggling operation their friend Doug Skinner had gotten involved with.
Murray came up from below and sat down heavily, accepting the drink Nick poured him.
“Here’s to Quinlan,” Cody toasted, holding his glass up for the others to echo.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Murray commented, sipping at the whiskey and grimacing.
“Yeah, I woulda figured he was too mean to die,” Nick joked with a hint of grudging affection.
“Remember the time he punched you?” Cody asked Nick.
“Which time?” Nick queried, and they both chuckled.
In actuality, the last punch had been delivered by Nick while Quinlan was helping them sell their undercover criminal personas. They’d been looking forward to teasing him about it for the foreseeable future. They’d never gotten the opportunity.
Quinlan had been a bellicose bastard who’d delighted in fighting the three private detectives at every turn, both figuratively and occasionally literally. Their working relationship with the cop had been antagonistic for a long time, with him relishing trying to pin crimes on them at every turn. Still, when push came to shove and they provided solid evidence, he would back them up when they needed a police presence.
Which is how he’d gotten killed.
“I keep wondering why he didn’t get out of the way of the car,” Nick murmured.
Murray glanced down into his glass thoughtfully, then raised his eyes again. “I think I might know why,” he offered. “I just got off the phone with Quinlan’s sister; I was extending our condolences. She told me he’d been diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer. He didn’t have long to live.”
Silence fell as they absorbed the weight of Murray’s words.
“I guess maybe he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory,” Nick surmised.
“That might explain why he’s been nicer than usual lately, too,” Cody added.
The personality change was noticeable, but none of them had thought much about it, just happy Quinlan wasn’t giving them such a hard time anymore.
Nick nodded. “Come to think of it, he was almost… nice.”
“I wish we’d known,” Murray said, putting his mostly untouched glass of whiskey on the table.
Nick snorted. “He would’ve had a root canal without Novocain before he shared something personal like that with us.”
“The last thing he would have wanted was anyone feeling sorry for him,” Cody added.
“Still, could have, I don’t know….” Murray ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I think he’d want us to do just what we’re doing,” Nick told Murray. “Having a drink in his memory.”
Murray picked up his glass again, braced himself, then quickly knocked back the whole thing.
Cody patted his back to help him through the ensuing coughing fit.
“To Lieutenant Quinlan.”
They’d gone from antagonistic enemies to grudging colleagues. Perhaps, if they’d had the chance, they would have been friends one day. Instead, all they could do was drink to the memory of a man who could be obnoxious and disparaging but, despite his prickly personality, had dedicated his life to keeping the public safe by putting criminals behind bars.
A good man.
Fandom: Riptide
Author: Cat Moon
Rating: PG
Words: 563
Characters: Nick, Cody, Murray (Quinlan mentioned)
Warnings: Canon (supporting) character death
Summary: Honoring a departed comrade.
Notes: This is a post “Requiem for Icarus” fic but stands on its own. It was my own head-canon back in the day, regarding Lt. Quinlan.
RIP to Jack Ging, aka Lt. Ted Quinlan, who passed away two months ago, at the age of 90.
Nick and Cody sat on the Riptide, watching as the sun went down over the Pacific Ocean. It was a spectacular sight, but today tempered by the somber mood. Lieutenant Ted Quinlan had died in the line of duty while helping them take down the human smuggling operation their friend Doug Skinner had gotten involved with.
Murray came up from below and sat down heavily, accepting the drink Nick poured him.
“Here’s to Quinlan,” Cody toasted, holding his glass up for the others to echo.
“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Murray commented, sipping at the whiskey and grimacing.
“Yeah, I woulda figured he was too mean to die,” Nick joked with a hint of grudging affection.
“Remember the time he punched you?” Cody asked Nick.
“Which time?” Nick queried, and they both chuckled.
In actuality, the last punch had been delivered by Nick while Quinlan was helping them sell their undercover criminal personas. They’d been looking forward to teasing him about it for the foreseeable future. They’d never gotten the opportunity.
Quinlan had been a bellicose bastard who’d delighted in fighting the three private detectives at every turn, both figuratively and occasionally literally. Their working relationship with the cop had been antagonistic for a long time, with him relishing trying to pin crimes on them at every turn. Still, when push came to shove and they provided solid evidence, he would back them up when they needed a police presence.
Which is how he’d gotten killed.
“I keep wondering why he didn’t get out of the way of the car,” Nick murmured.
Murray glanced down into his glass thoughtfully, then raised his eyes again. “I think I might know why,” he offered. “I just got off the phone with Quinlan’s sister; I was extending our condolences. She told me he’d been diagnosed with advanced pancreatic cancer. He didn’t have long to live.”
Silence fell as they absorbed the weight of Murray’s words.
“I guess maybe he wanted to go out in a blaze of glory,” Nick surmised.
“That might explain why he’s been nicer than usual lately, too,” Cody added.
The personality change was noticeable, but none of them had thought much about it, just happy Quinlan wasn’t giving them such a hard time anymore.
Nick nodded. “Come to think of it, he was almost… nice.”
“I wish we’d known,” Murray said, putting his mostly untouched glass of whiskey on the table.
Nick snorted. “He would’ve had a root canal without Novocain before he shared something personal like that with us.”
“The last thing he would have wanted was anyone feeling sorry for him,” Cody added.
“Still, could have, I don’t know….” Murray ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“I think he’d want us to do just what we’re doing,” Nick told Murray. “Having a drink in his memory.”
Murray picked up his glass again, braced himself, then quickly knocked back the whole thing.
Cody patted his back to help him through the ensuing coughing fit.
“To Lieutenant Quinlan.”
They’d gone from antagonistic enemies to grudging colleagues. Perhaps, if they’d had the chance, they would have been friends one day. Instead, all they could do was drink to the memory of a man who could be obnoxious and disparaging but, despite his prickly personality, had dedicated his life to keeping the public safe by putting criminals behind bars.
A good man.