Not FAHC, but who wouldn’t want this on their dash?

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Claire Keane
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Not today Justin
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oozey mess
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@i-am-alpha-two
Not FAHC, but who wouldn’t want this on their dash?
Tales From the LSPD - Case 495
Be sure to read from the beginning: MASTERLIST
~~
Case Number: 495
Date: 4/1/15
Suspect: Gavin Free
Summary: Gavin Free is being held for questioning again. Officer Burns and Demarais investing the case of an old woman lit on fire in Downtown Los Santos. Free was spotted by both officers beside the woman as she burned. (Note: Old Woman survived.) Please refer to video 40115F for interrogation.
Once again, Officer Burns and his partner sat across from yet another member of the FAHC. His fingers drummed anxiously as he watched the antsy gang member shift in his seat. Burnie ran his restless hand across his brow and muttered to himself, "I'm beginning to really hate this job."
Quirking an eyebrow, Demarais turned to face his annoyed partner. "Why's that, Sir?" he asked innocently.
"You'll learn one day, kid. Probably soon," Burnie muttered before folding his hands on the table and staring down Gavin. The Brit was still shifting uncomfortably as he avoided the older man's gaze. "So, Gavin Free, the Golden Boy of the FAHC, do you know why you're here?"
Gavin rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I mean, no, not really," he replied, his accent thick.
Officer Burns sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. "Seriously Gavin? We want to know who lit Mrs. Smith on fire, and we arrested you standing right beside her after bystanders managed to finally put her out."
Gavin's fingers began bouncing off the tabletop with no rhythm. "Oh. Yeah. That. I didn't do that." Gavin’s gaze bounced between Demarais and Burns, not settling on either of the men.
Burnie's eyes narrowed on the gang member, not believing a word the blonde said. "Then why were you there Free?"
"Well . . ." Gavin trailed off, trying to find the right way to explain the situation. He really hadn't lit the old woman on fire, but he wasn't exactly there for the best reason . . .
"Go on," Burns urged the Brit, his tone low.
Gavin folded his arms across his chest before replying, "You see, Micoo bet me I couldn't lightaflareoffher." When he got to the end of the sentence, Gavin wasn’t exactly sure of himself and trailed off.
Burnie’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He didn’t want to believe the FAHC were as sadistic as this made them seem. He blinked a few times, regaining his bearing. "Did you just say what I think you said?" he asked, his burning gaze narrowing on the blonde.
Gavin stared down at the table as he repeated himself for the officer. "I wanted to see if I could light a flare off her."
Officer Burns simply shook his head, giving up. To be perfectly honest, he should’ve expected it. "You two are seriously fucked up, you know that?"
A shameless squawk escaped Gavin as he tried to somehow justify the fucked up situation he'd been involved in. "We just wanted to see if it was possible. It’s not like we lit an old lady on fire just to see if we could." Funny how he was uncomfortable until insulted. “The situation just so happened to present itself, ya pleb.”
From across the table, Demarais only made the situation worse. He leaned forward, obviously intrigued by Gavin and Michael’s deviant nature. "Well, was it possible?"
Gavin was taken aback by the officer’s interest. Most people would be outraged and disgusted by the idea of lighting a flare off a burning human . . . "Uh, yeah. Want to see?" There was an odd light in Gavin’s eye as he fished around in his pockets, producing a flare and a lighter. Gavin flicked the lighter to life and reached forward with it, almost igniting Officer Demarais’ uniform.
Before Burnie had the chance to watch his partner go up in flames, he reached forward, swatting the lighter from Gavin’s hand. "No, he doesn't!" Burnie yelled, readying to cuff Gavin and ship him off to a holding cell. Fate seemed to have other plans though. Burnie had accidentally knocked the open flame into Demarais’ lap, and the officer’s pants went up in flames almost immediately.
Demarais jumped out of his seat and began furiously patting at his lap to no avail. “Burnie!” The older officer was out of his chair in moments, already shrugging out of his jacket. As Burnie began beating the flames engulfing his partner, he didn’t notice Gavin had risen from where he sat and was releasing an array of awkward bird noises.
“Oh God, oh God! It was an accident!” Gavin yelled as he ran toward the two officers. Burnie had finally noticed the criminal and held out a hand to stop Gavin from coming any closer. It was no use though as the klutz tripped on his way over and wound up tackling the still burning Demarais to the ground. Annoyed and frantic, Burnie yanked Gavin off his partner. His eyes widened as he let out a string of curses and just barely dodged the flare that had sprung to life in Gavin’s hand.
Suddenly, Burnie was the only one in the room that wasn’t on fire. He looked down on the pair for a moment, thinking quietly to himself. You know.. I could just let them burn…
Closing Notes: Thankfully, Demarais was finally extinguished, as was Free and both only suffered minor injuries. Somehow, the incident with Free and Demarais was swept under the rug, and Free was later bailed out by Jack Patillo. Maybe we need to start setting the bail amount higher . . . Though that'd probably only lead to more robberies to bail everyone out.
Extra note: Was the previous guy who was in charge of searching these fuckers fired?! If not, fire him and hire a new guy!
Tales from the LSPD - Case 348
A/N: If you haven’t read the rest of the series, you may want to check out the masterlist and start from the beginning to catch some of the running jokes of the series. MASTERLIST
~~
Case Number: 348
Date: 3/18/15
Suspect: Michael Jones
Summary: Jones was brought in after the release of FAHC Member, Dooley. Still investigating the mugging in Downtown Los Santos. Officer Burns and Demarais will go through the whole crew until they find the culprit. Refer to video 31815J for interrogation.
The two usual officers entered the bleak interrogation room and took a seat across from the curly haired member of the FAHC. Said gang member was currently plucking the few remaining petals from the wilted flower that rested in the middle of the table. He only looked up when Officer Burns cleared his throat and placed a thick file and a cup of coffee on the desk. "Alright Mr. Jones, before we get started here, I have one question for you." Michael quit tugging at the petals and let his hands fall to the tabletop as he looked at the officer with a bored expression. "Do you have anything you're going to put on your head?"
Michael was taken aback and gave Officer Burns an odd look. "Uh, what the fuck?"
The officer seemed satisfied with Michael's confusion and continued on. "No? Good, moving on then. Walk me through your entire day on March 16."
Michael drummed his fingers against the cool tabletop while he thought back to two days ago. "Alright, well, let's see. I woke up, ate some breakfast, hung out with my boi, ate some more, met up with the gang, the usual. Definitely didn't blow any shit up. Nope. Not me." The ginger's eyes darted around the room, refusing to make eye contact with either officer.
Burnie's eyes narrowed, and he leaned closer to his partner. "Demarais, do we have any open cases about anything being blown up recently?" he asked in a hushed tone.
Before the younger officer could answer, a booming voice came through their radios. "Officer Burns, we need you on a call, STAT." Burnie let out a groan before responding to the call, letting them know he and his partner were on the way.
Officer Burns stood from the table and began walking toward the door to the interrogation room. "Alright, Demarais, come on." His partner quickly stood and rushed to Burnie's side. "Remind me to get someone on that whole blowing shit up thing." Demarais nodded eagerly as he followed Burnie out of the room.
"Okay, but sir, where are we going?" Michael heard Demarais ask as the pair disappeared through the doorway.
"Don't know."
When nobody entered the room when the pair vanished, Michael was a little confused. He was used to being in here, and the officers of the LSPD knew not to leave him alone in a room. Especially after what happened last time. "Uh... Guys?" Michael called, waiting for some sort of response.
After a few moments of waiting for a response that he wasn't going to get, Michael simply shrugged and pulled a small block of C4 from his pocket. He laid it on the table as he began carefully wiring up the explosive.
A couple minutes went by, and Michael was putting the finishing touches on his masterpiece when he heard Officer Burns' voice echoing down the hall again. "Hang on, I forgot my coffee." Michael peered out from where he was crouched under the table. Surely, it was obvious what he was doing with the wires strung all over the room leading to a small detonator. "What the fuck is going on here?!"
From where Michael crouched under the table, he gave Officer Burns a wide smirk. "Sup Officer."
Closing Notes: Somehow, after almost blowing up the Depot, Jones was bailed out by none other than Jack Patillo. Side note, be sure to fire the idiot who is searching these guys, and under no circumstances is Michael Jones to be left alone. EVER.
Tales From the LSPD Masterlist
Haywood Case 247
Dooley Case 317
Jones Case 348
Free Case 495
Come Back to Me
Pairing: FAHC!Michael x Reader
Words: 2.2K
Warnings: Character Death, Violence, Angst. So much angst.
A/N: I hate myself so much for writing this, but I also kind of liked how it turned out. I’ll also admit, I may have shed a tear while writing this …
You wandered the somber grounds which had become strangely familiar to you within the last few weeks. A heavy weight settled on your chest as you meandered through the rows of engraved stones. Your dull eyes settles on yet another family saying their last goodbyes to someone else who was torn from this world too early. Silent tears streamed freely down your cheeks as you grieved the loss of such a young life with the rest of the mourners. Unwilling to bear witness to yet another child put to rest, you slowly made your way back to the spot you’d always wait at. Your riding boots sank into the well manicured grass as you came upon the all too familiar bench that you sat at daily.
The marble bench rested beside the road and overlooked the vast field of grave stones. Crossing your ankles, you chewed on your bottom lip as you waited for him to show. The last few weeks, it had become a daily occurrence. Silently, you hoped today was the day the ritual was finally broken and he wouldn’t show. Making daily trips to the cemetery to mourn his lost fiancée couldn’t be good for his mental state. You silently hoped that eventually one of the crew would get through to him since you couldn’t anymore. Sadly, you figured that none of the gang wanted to cross that bridge and hurt Michael any more than he already was. Sure enough, you heard the sounds of soft footsteps approaching you. “Oh Michael,” you sighed somberly. You watched as the curly haired male made his way to stand before the grave stone directly in front of you.
Letting out a deep sigh, you stood from your seat and made your way to stand beside him. With a sad smile on your face, you flopped down onto the downy grass beside where he stood. Sure enough, Michael sat down as well. Not once did he glance over at you as his gaze was fixed on the overbearing stone lumbering over the two of you. “(Y/N),” he muttered, his head falling despairingly into his hands. Michael’s shoulders began to shake with silent sobs. The mere sight of him in such a state tore at your heart, but you knew there was nothing you could do to console the mourning male. Your hand came to rest on his quivering shoulder. If only he knew…
You forced yourself to look at the stone before you. “Here lies (Y/N, Y/L/N). Taken from us much too soon.” A lump formed in your throat as you choked back tears.
You’d been caught in the crossfire on a heist gone wrong a few weeks ago. It was supposed to be an easy job. At least, that’s what Geoff had said. A quick in-and-out on a gas station. Of course there had to be a silent alarm nobody knew about. You and Ryan were still inside the building when the cops started to roll up. Michael and Geoff were doing the best they could to pick them off to give the two of you a clear exit, but it seemed as though for every downed cops, two more would crawl out of the woodwork. Realizing it was a losing battle, you and Ryan decided to make a break for it.
Everything was going well. You held your own pretty well against the swarm. The two of you on the ground fired into the mass of blue in front of you, while Michael and Geoff picked off the ones you missed from their rooftop hideouts. You and Ryan had almost made it to the clear when everything that could go wrong did. Suddenly, you felt a searing pain explode in your chest, and you let out a choked wail. It felt like there was liquid choking you, and your hand instantly shot up to grasp at your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Panic coursed through your veins as you heard Ryan screaming your codename, but all you focus on was the pain and the sticky blood now soaking your tank top. You couldn’t help it as your eyes widened in fear, and suddenly, multiple people began screaming.
Confusion consumed you as Ryan surged back toward you, but ran past you as you stood clueless in the middle of the battlefield. You spun on your heel quickly, ready to give him an earful, but the words died on your lips when you saw him hoisting your limp body off the ground. Wait. How is he? But you’re … You glanced down at your body. You were standing right there. “Ryan!” You screamed. He didn’t even glance your way. Forcing yourself to look at the limp form in his arms, you scanned your body. Your knees instantly gave way, and your body hit the pavement when you saw what really happened.
Your free hand brushed over your smooth forehead just above your right eye where previously there had been a bullet hole. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face Michael. “You know, things aren’t the same without you here. I tell you this all the time, I know I do, but they really are different. It’s like you were the glue that held all of us together. You made us work. Now without you, the gang is a mess. Geoff is always losing things without you there to keep tabs on him. Nobody is around to protect the idiot when Gavin does something stupid and we all tear into him. Jack, well, she doesn’t really have anyone that seems to get her on the level you did. She’s kind of receded into herself, and we don’t know what to do. Little J has officially become the shortest one in the crew. Nobody lets him forget his height now that you aren’t around to tease.” Michael paused, choking back the sob that threatened to rip free from his chest. “You know I’m a mess without you, but Ryan, he’s taking it the worst out of everyone else. He blames himself for what happened to you.”
Your heart shattered to pieces at those words. Ryan was the one to bring you into the crew, and stuck with you through everything. He was your best friend, and you hated to know he blamed himself. You wished more than anything that you could just sit him down and let him know it was a fluke. You no longer tried to hold back the tears that ran down your cheeks like mini waterfalls. Your body fell against Michael, and for a second, he glanced over at the space your ethereal form inhabited. Shaking his head, he folded his arms across his knees and let his head come to rest on the makeshift pillow. The two of you remained like this until the sun began to set and Michael had to head back to the penthouse.
Sadly, you watched your once fiancé leave you behind in the cemetery to wander the graves.
The days continued on like this, Michael coming to visit you like clockwork, then leaving as both of your hearts would break time and time again. Sometimes he would bring other members of the crew along with him. It was nice to see how the others were getting along since you left. Gav had managed to get himself a girlfriend. Maybe one day she’d come by. Hopefully she would, you wanted to see the doll the cheeky Brit had managed to snag. Jack was finally starting to come out of her shell again. You could see the change in here every time she came back. Your heart began to glow every time you saw her now. Little J had gone and dyed his hair green! Oh if you could smack him you would. You shook your head when you’d catch sight of the bright flash of green. Geoff was honestly the same as he used to be. You were glad to see he hadn’t changed.
As for Ryan … Ryan had yet to come visit your grave. Maybe that was best …
Days soon turned into weeks which flashed by into months. Holidays passed and Michael would come to celebrate each one with you. Hell, for Christmas, the whole gang showed up and even brought you wrapped gifts. The sentiment was nice, but you shook your head at their foolishness. What was a dead girl going to do with presents? As if he knew what you were thinking, Geoff spoke up, “You know, kiddo, it just didn’t feel the same having Christmas without you, so we all decided we’d get you a little something. If you can see us right now, just know we still love you.” You sobbed as you went around the group, giving each of them a hug they couldn’t feel.
Your days were filled with wandering the graveyard, waiting for your lover to show.
Finally, June rolled around again. Everyone showed up again, and they all sat on the plush grass before your grave stone. Michael sat directly beside the marble, and you sat beside him. On your left was Gavin and next to him, his new girlfriend, Meg. Geoff sat beside her, then Jeremy, Jack, and finally, Ryan. There was a tense silence as nobody knew what to say. Finally, Geoff spoke up, slicing through the tension easily. “So, it’s only been a year? It feels longer than that.” You lowered your head dismally. “But, today, we aren’t here to dwell on that fact. We’re here to remember all the good times we had with you.” Around the circle, everyone nodded in agreement.
It honestly didn’t feel like they were honoring the year anniversary of your death as they went around the circle telling stories of all the things you did. Stories from the time you hid Geoff’s keys from him when he lost them for the third time, to the time you almost dangled Gavin out of the penthouse window were told. By the end of the day, everyone was laughing … Even Michael and yourself. By immersing yourself in their laughter and oddly guilty joy, you could ignore the fact that today was the day you had to face the cold truth.
As the sun set, everyone sadly stood and said their goodbyes to you, not knowing you were saying your own goodbyes back. They all shuffled to the crew car. Well, everyone except Michael. He still lingered beside your grave. “Michael,” Gavin called, his accent thick as he called his friend’s name. “Come on, we gotta head out boy.”
“I know, just give me a minute. Okay?” You watched as Gavin nodded and jumped on the outside of the car. Michael kicked the grass as he stared solemnly at my grave. “So, a year, huh?” he mumbled. Silently, you made your way over to your fiancé and wrapped your arms around him, leaning against his chest. “You know, sometimes it feels like you’re still here with me.” You froze and glanced up at him. He was still staring at your name engraved in the marble. “I wish you were.”
Swallowing hard, you released Michael and took a step back. You willed him to look at you, but to no avail of course. Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself for what you had to do. “Michael,” you began, “I love you. So much. I hate that things ended how they did, but honey, it’s time you moved on. I’m not asking you to forget me, but you can’t keep living like this.” You stepped forward, daintily placing a hand on his cheek. The man looked stunned for a moment. “You need to move on now Michael. I promise that one day, you will see me again. But you’re only hurting us both by continuing on like this. Live your life. Live our life. Then one day, come back home to me. I’ll be waiting for you, I promise.” With tears streaming down your cheeks, you stepped back. Michael’s eyes were fixed on where you were standing, almost as though he could see you.
To your shock, he nodded. “I love you, (Y/N).” With that, you saw Michael for the last time as he walked away, tears running freely down his face.
~
When the day came, you were sure to be there. Sadly, it wasn’t too long after you were taken that your lover joined you on the other side. A few years had passed after you told him to move on that Michael was killed on a heist, much like you were. Michael glanced around himself, totally confused about the situation. He swore when he saw his body lying on the ground. You shook your head at his all too familiar antics. “Michael,” you called.
The male spun on his heel to face you, and his eyes widened when he saw you actually standing behind him. In an instant, you were wrapped in his warm embrace again. It had definitely been too long. “(Y/N), is it really you?” he muttered against your shoulder as he buried his head into the crook of your neck.
Smiling, you wrapped your arms around him. “It really is me. I told you, you’d see me again one day.”
Michael stiffened in your arms. “Wait. That was really you that day?”
You were stunned. “You saw me?” He nodded. “I’m glad you did, otherwise you may not have come back home to me.”
“Baby, no matter what, I’d always come back to you.”
Hello From the Other Side
I’ve realized at this point I’m trash and can no longer resist writing for FAHC. I stumbled across @fahcheadcanons which will soon become my downfall. Things got a little out of hand when I found this headcanon:
While he was in police custody, the LSPD made the mistake of not handcuffing Michael down in the interrogation room. He proceeds to press himself as close to the two way mirror as he can, loudly singing “HEEEELLOOOO FROM THE OOOTHER SIIIIIIIIIIIDE.”
I apologize.
~~~
The sky was alight with a gorgeous pink hue as the sun began to slowly set. You walked beside Michael, your hand occasionally brushing lightly against his. Humming lightly, you glanced over at him. “So what did you have in mind for tonight?”
Michael peered over at you. “Well, I was thinking maybe some dinner, a movie, and afterward,” he paused, grabbing your hand and pulling you to a stop, “maybe some cuddling?” He smirked lightly at the blush that spread across your cheeks. Chuckling, Michael leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you. His warm lips pressed gently against yours as his arms wound around your waist. You responded after a moment of hesitation. Your arms moved to dangle over his shoulders. One hand wove its way through his red curls as your lips moved in sync with his. Neither of you cared that you were standing on a sidewalk in the middle of Los Santos, lip-locked.
You didn’t think the moment could be any more perfect until suddenly, an explosion behind you sent both of you sprawling to the ground. Somehow Michael wound up on top of you as yet another explosion rocked the night. “What the fuck?!” Michael yelled, hovering over you. Instinctively, you began to shove his body from yours as you reached into the waistband of your pants at the small of your back.
Your eyes widened when you realized you had left your pistol on the nightstand. “Shit. I didn’t bring my gun!”
“Yo, Fakes!” a male screamed from across the street. You immediately spotted him hiding behind a barrier. The outline of a rocket launcher was easily recognizable as it sat on his shoulder. He let the weapon fall as he began reloading it. You finally came to your senses and hauled yourself off the concrete. Grabbing the back of Michael’s shirt, you forced him to stand. “Fancy meeting you here!” the man called from across the street. You could see he had his weapon perched on his shoulder again.
Shoving Michael forward, you narrowly avoided yet another blast. “Jesus!” Narrowing your eyes on your boyfriend, you rushed forward. “Uh, Michael, care to start killing yet?”
Michael rubbed the back of his neck as he continued running. “I didn’t bring a gun,” he admitted.
You let out a frustrated sound. “Are you fucking kidding me?” This was great. The two of you were against a mercenary wielding a fucking rocket launcher and all you had were your fists.
“I thought you fucking grabbed one!”
“God damn it,” you growled, raking a hand over your annoyed features. In the distance, you could distinctly hear the sound of an RPG launching. “Get down!” The rocket soared overhead before striking a building a few hundred feet away. In the silence after the explosion, the sound of sirens filled the night.
“Would you two just hurry up and die already? The cops are coming!” the mercenary called from his post. You never thought you’d be so happy to see the familiar red and blue lights barreling down the street.
You heard shuffling beside you, and suddenly, Michael’s arms were wrapped around you. You let him fawn over you as he always did when you were shot at. “Are you okay?” he asked, and you nodded in reply. Around you, car doors slammed, and heavy footsteps pounded across the dark pavement.
“Get on the ground!” a male voice boomed. You were relieved as it seemed like the cops captured your attacker. The relief soon turned to surprise as you were shoved face first onto the ground. “I said get down on the ground!” You felt a knee come to rest in the middle of your back as your arms were pulled harshly behind you. The familiar bite of handcuffs was at your wrists as you let your face rest against the cement.
~
The burly cop had a hold of your elbow as he led you down a bleak looking hallway in the precinct. You passed by a few empty rooms that had large tinted windows on one wall. Two way mirrors, you guessed. As you began nearing the end of the hall, there was a commotion coming from the last room on the right. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you neared the room. When the window came into view, you burst into laughter. Michael had thrown himself against the mirror and was currently belting out the lyrics to some pop song. “Hello from the other siiiiide,” he sang crudely, his forehead pressed against the glass as he stared past his reflection.
You barely fought back your laughter as you shook off the cops loose grasp on your arm. Throwing yourself against the glass as much as your handcuffed wrists would let you, you continued the song. “I must’ve called a thousaaand tiiiimes.” You cracked up laughing as sturdy arms wrapped around your torso, dragging you away from the glass. You could see Michael’s eyes widen in response, and he cracked a huge grin.
The cop who was currently trying to diffuse the situation and drag you into the interrogation room was calling for back up. Inside the room, Michael was clueless of the situation. Still pressed against the mirror, he called, “To tell you I’m sorry, for everything that I’ve done!” As he continued to sing, a handful of officers were now rushing down the hall.
Refusing to let the chaos ruin your fun, you yelled, “But when I call, you never seem to be home!” Your officer finally managed to drag you through the doorway of your interrogation room. Before the door was slammed shut, you could see Michael getting drug away from the glass by a pair of officers. You were thrown harshly into an uncomfortable chair, still cackling like a madman.
This was going to be a long night.
~
Eventually the cops realized they couldn’t pin this incident on either of you, and both you and Michael were begrudgingly released. Smirking, the two of you left the police station and made your way back to the penthouse. “Well, tonight was interesting. Definitely not what I expected,” you muttered as you dug your keys from your pocket.
Michael’s arms wound around your waist. “Is it too late to try and save the night?” he asked, burrowing his face in the nape of your neck.
Humming lightly, you unlocked the door. “No, I don’t think so.” You felt him grin against your skin as you shoved the door to the penthouse open.
The first thing you heard was Geoff’s cackling laughter. As you stepped out of Michael’s arms and into the penthouse, you heard everyone else joining Geoff. Through his loud fits of laughter, you heard Gavin demanding Jack to play the video again. Confused, you cleared your throat and walked over to the group. “What’s up guys?” you asked.
When the five sets of eyes settled on you and Michael, they calmed themselves for a moment before bursting into laughter again. Seriously confused now, you grabbed Jack’s phone from her hands and glanced down at the screen. You could feel Michael standing behind you as he peered over your shoulder. Jack had the Youtube app open on her phone and the video pulled up stated “Fake AH Crew leaked interview footage.” Peering over at Michael, your brow furrowed.
Michael reached over your shoulder and pressed the replay button. Suddenly, the screen was filled with a bleak, white room that was occupied by only Michael. He wasn’t really doing anything aside from looking around and drumming on the table lightly. Out of nowhere, Michael stood quickly, sending the chair flying back into the wall. He glanced at the camera, clearly annoyed before he strolled over to the door. When he realized it was locked, he rattled the doorknob for a bit before giving up and walking back into the room. You didn’t get why the rest of the crew was currently fighting back laughter.
Then it hit you. You watched as Michael threw himself against the mirror. His hands slowly sliding down the glass, and his cheek pressed firmly against the glass. “All by myself. Don’t wanna be.. All by myself,” he sang quietly to himself as he slid down the mirror. You began to chuckle quietly as you watched Michael pick himself up off the ground and lean against the mirror. His arms were folded across his chest as he looked about the room somberly. “I’m here without you baby,” he began silently. “But you’re still on my lonely mind. I think about you baby, and I dream about you all the time!” Michael let out a bored sigh as he let his ear come to rest against the glass.
There were a few moments of silence before Michael perked up. He smirked before throwing himself against the mirror again. “Hello from the other side!” You let out a sigh when you knew exactly where this was going. You could hear your voice coming from the phone, but it was severely muffled. “To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done!” You watched as a pair of officers burst through the door and drug Michael away from the mirror and threw him into a chair. They quickly threw a pair of handcuffs on him and secured the red head to the table.
You let the phone fall to your side, but Geoff spoke up quickly. “Wait, it’s not over yet.” Rolling your eyes, you looked at Jack’s phone again. This time, the camera was facing down the hallway you were currently being escorted down. There was some muffled singing coming from the phone’s speaker, then suddenly, you watched as you threw yourself against the glass, your handcuffed hands raised above your head.
Your cheek was pressed against the window as you shut your eyes and belted, “I must’ve called a thousand times!” The crew sitting in front of you burst into laughter, knowing exactly what was going on now. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched the cop’s face contort with annoyance as he lifted you off the ground and pried you away from Michael. You watched as you squirmed in his grasp, determined to get out the last line of the song. The video ended when you were drug into the interrogation room as a few cops rushed toward the commotion at the end of the hall. “How many views does this have?” you asked, letting your head fall into your right hand.
“Last time I checked, ten million,” Jeremy stated.
You let out a sigh as you handed Jack’s phone back to her. “I can’t believe this is what I’m going to be famous for.” Turning to Michael, you jabbed a finger into his chest. “I blame you.”
Michael just shrugged, and you were instantly surrounded by the laughter of the rest of the Fakes.
Tales from the LSPD - Case 317
Case Number: 317
Date: 3/17/15
Suspect: Jeremy Dooley
Summary: Officer Burns and Officer Demarais are investigating a mugging in downtown Los Santos. Leads pointed to Dooley of the FAHC. Refer to video 31715D to view interrogation.
Jeremy glanced around the barren room, not used to being brought in by the police. Despite his involvement with the Crew, he surprisingly hadn't spent much time with the police. He rubbed his hands together under the table and watched as a single pink petal fell from the wilted plant that sat directly in front of him. The sudden sound of a folder slamming against the table across from him snapped Jeremy's attention to the officers that now sat before him.
The older man sighed and flipped the folder open. "Dooley," he began, "You know, I'm honestly sad to see you in here." The man looked up and Jeremy finally got a good look at his face. He was being interviewed by Burnie Burns, an old family friend. This was either going to go really well or really poorly for Jeremy. "You always seemed like you had your head on straight, but then you went and got mixed up with the Fakes." Burnie shook his head somberly and grabbed a pen, poising it over the folder. "Let's just get this over with. Walk me through your day yesterday."
Jeremy nodded and mulled over the events of yesterday in his head. "Alright, so yesterday, I woke up, and--" Jeremy's voice was drowned out by a rustling noise coming from under the table. Both officers looked at each other in confusion as Jeremy peered under the table. The pair watched as the criminal pulled out a brown paper bag and placed it over his head. "I was feeling pretty good yesterday." The two officers were dumbstruck as they stared at the smiling face of none other than Gavin Free.
Officer Burn's hand raked over his face in agitation. "What. What are you doing Dooley?"
Jeremy cocked his head to the side, and all the officers could see was a slight tilt to the bag. Gavin's face was still beaming back at them. "What do you mean? I'm telling you about my day like you asked," Jeremy’s muffled voice came from inside the bag.
"Well, what's with the bag?" Through the rustling and sound of his breathing echoing in the steamy paper bag, Jeremy could hear the annoyance in the officer's voice.
"Oh. That. This is just something from my bag of emotions."
"You're fucking kidding me, right?"
Smirking behind the thin veil of paper, Jeremy continued on with his tale. "Nope. So, as I was saying, I was feeling pretty good, but then I had to go to the store to get groceries. When I got there, this crazy old lady starting yelling at me." Jeremy finally lifted the bag with Gavin's face from his head and dropped it to the floor. There was another rustling sound, and to the officers' dismay, there was another bag over his head in seconds. "I was pretty mad about that."
Officer Burn's expression went dark as he caught sight of the face on the new bag. His partner on the other hand was intrigued. He glanced back and forth between Jeremy and the now fuming officer. "Oh, hey look Burnie, it's your face," Demarais said, pointing at the mirror image of Burnie's current expression. "Wow, it really looks like you."
"Demarais," Burnie warned, his tone low. "How the fuck did you get that, Dooley?"
There was a rustling sound beneath the table again as Jeremy sifted through his emotions. "Oh, this?" he asked, pulling the bag with Burnie's face off his head before replacing it with a new one.
"What now?" Burnie asked, exasperated as he was staring back at the pondering face of Jack Patillo.
Jeremy crossed his arms. "I'm thinking."
Burnie let out an annoyed sigh and stood from his chair. "We'll finish this later." He stormed out of the room with Demarais hot on his heels. "Someone take those goddamn bags from him!" Burnie's voice echoed down the hall and into the interrogation room.
"Yeah, make him emotionless!"
"Shut up Demarais!"
Back in the interrogation room, Jeremy pulled off the bag with Jack's face and replaced it with a pouting Ryan.
Closing Notes: Dooley was later bailed out by Jack Patillo. Upon release, his emotions were returned to him. Next time Dooley is in custody, receiving officer must check for his "Bag of Emotions" and confiscate immediately.
Tales From the LSPD - Case 247
A/N: After finding this post by @anarchetypal I couldn’t resist making a small series about the woes of the LSPD dealing with the pain in the ass FAHC. This is only the first of the series. There’s many more to come.
~~~
Case Number: 247
Date: 2/5/15
Suspect: Ryan Haywood
Summary: Yet another robbery on the Maze Bank. Leads pointed us in the direction of the FAHC. Haywood in particular. Please refer to video: 20515H to view interrogation.
~
Three men sat around a rectangular table nestled inside a bleak looking room. The only color in the entire room was a single, pink orchid that was placed in the center of the table. There was a large window that took up the wall with the only door in and out of the room. The man who sat on the side by himself drummed his fingers lightly on the table top while the other two conversed quietly. From their blue uniforms, it was obvious they were cops, and the man across from the table was about to be in some deep shit.
Finally, the older looking cop placed his file down on the tabletop and folded his hands across it. "Alright Haywood. You know the drill at this point. We've just got some questions for you," he said, his voice dripping authority. Haywood obviously wanted nothing to do with the officer, and simply stared at the pink petals that were drooping sadly before him. "So, care to tell us what you were doing at approximately 7:16 tonight?"
A look of annoyance crossed Ryan's face, and the younger cop looked a little uneasy. His hand moved to rest above his baton as Ryan reached across the table, shifting the orchid closer to himself. "7:16?" Ryan's fingers delicately examined the wilting plant as he seemed to mull over his answer. "Let's see, at 7:16 exactly, I was properly tending to my plants. Obviously neither of you would understand that."
The older officer was thoroughly confused at the words. "But we have witnesses . . . Wait. Tending to plants?"
"Of course," Ryan replied, fixing the pair across from him with an even stare. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go try to revive this poor Orchid you two have managed to thoroughly neglect." Ryan scooped the potted plant into his arms and began to stand.
"Hey!" the older officer shouted, his hand on his baton. "Sit down. We aren't done here yet." With a sigh, Ryan fell back into his chair and set the potted plant back onto the table. "Alright, now we're getting somewhere." The man leaned back in his chair and glanced at Ryan menacingly, or at least, that's what he thought. "So, 7:16, you were . . . tending to your plants. Is that correct?"
Crossing his arms across his chest, Ryan gave the pair of officers a deadpan look. "Yes, that's correct as I know how to properly care for a living, breathing organism unlike you two. I mean seriously," Ryan began rambling, poking his finger into the bone-dry dirt filling the pot. "The dirt isn't even moist, and you had this plant sitting in a Northwest corner of the room. It's not like that matters though seeing as there's not a single goddamn window in this room, you fools."
The younger, dark haired officer looked to his superior, obviously confused. "O-Officer Burns?"
Officer Burns leaned forward, shaking his head. He stood from his chair and signaled his partner to do the same. The younger officer skittered out of the interrogation room first and Officer Burns sauntered out behind him. Before the door shut, Ryan could hear Officer Burns muttering to the guards outside the room. "Take him to his cell. We'll question him again later when he's . . . complacent."
Ryan glared from where he sat at the table still, hugging the plant against his chest. "Wait. Before you take me, might I make a suggestion?" When he didn't get a reply, Ryan continued on. "If you're going to have a plant, just get a fucking cactus."
Closing Notes: Haywood was later bailed out by Jack Patillo. No charges were filed, and the Orchid was watered and is to remain in the interrogation room until further notice.
Live Action Fake AH Crew with Fake Fake AH Crew 3rd Compilation
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