20Urgh, it stank back here. Detective Marty Deeks scrunched up his nose and leaned casually against the dumpster. He resisted the urge to check his watch, it was way too early for his guy to turn up yet. He was coping out the place, seeing who frequented here. Thank God he had finally ditched the uniform, it made loitering down suspicious alleys so much easier.
"Are you ok, young man?" a croaky voice asked him.
Deeks looked up to see who spoke in the extremely stereotypical little old lady voice to see, well, a little old lady. The woman literally looked like someone's grandmother. Grey hair, shapeless cardigan, long skirt and, he looked down at her feet, yep – sensible shoes.
He put on his 'charming-sweet-boy' smile, it was zero percent sexy smirk and one hundred per cent 'sweet boy'
"Oh yes, ma'am," he replied, straightening up. "I'm okay."
She peered at him curiously through her glasses and frowned. Uh oh, that was never good.
"This isn't a place for a young man like yourself to be," she informed him. "Don't you know that disturbed youths lollygag around here?"
"I'm not hanging around," he assured her, just waiting for a friend."
She looked him up and down and apparently found whatever she was looking for acceptable. Thankfully, he wasn't wearing his "homeless" clothes. Just some worn jeans and a ratty t-shirt. He was meant to be a nervous guy dealing for the first time, not a hopeless street rat.
She pursed her lips and nodded, "You be careful and don't wait too long. Wouldn't want something to happen to you."
"I won't ma'am, thank you," he called after her slowly retreating figure.
He surreptitiously made sure that she made her way down the street okay, it was a dodgy area of the city after all. The drug dealer he was scoping out was the least of its problems. Phew, she was out of sight. One less thing to worry about.
The smell of rotting fish and urine drifted over to him again. Deeks felt his stomach roll. Why did low-level drug dealers always do business in dirty, dodgy alleys? What was the harm in doing it somewhere cleaner at least? Somewhere without a dumpster would be a start.
He tapped his foot, at least he didn't have to cover that up – it would play straight into his persona. Where was he? Surely even a dealer would show proper business sense and turn up to prescheduled meetings on time, especially when he knew his customer was a newcomer to the whole thing?
Deeks looked down the alley, only seeing that homeless guy he stepped over earlier still there, sleeping and normal LA street traffic walking past. No sign of suspicious business there. He stretched his arms; he'd give it ten more minutes then head back to the precinct. Bates wouldn't be happy but he'd have to deal and figure out another way to get a hook in this drug-dealing syndicate.
Was that footsteps?
"Are you 'Mr Wilkes'?" he asked, making his voice sound anxious and strained, not hard after all this waiting around with no gun.
"Depends who's talking," a calm low voice responded.
The guy was wearing a cap pulled low over his face, because of course he was. Today was just full of stereotypes wasn't it?
"Uh, Tim," he said, making sure to stutter.
'Mr Wilkes' made a scathing noise.
"New at this, eh?"
Deeks scratched the back of his head. "That obvious?"
He just got a snort for an answer. They stood in silence for a few minutes, 'Mr Wilkes' lit a cigarette and puffed away. Deeks shuffled his feet.
"So, uh, how does this work? Do I get a turf?" Deeks asked.
"Woah, kid. It don't work like that," 'Mr Wilkes' chided him, breathing smoke in his face.
He coughed and waved the cancerous cloud away. That was nasty.
"How does work then?"
"You prove yourself," he said, as if it was obvious.
"And how do I do that? Are you going to teach me?" Deeks made sure to layer some over-eagerness in there, everyone was a sucker for an eager beaver.
A 'comforting' hand clapped down on his shoulder. Deeks hid a wince.
"Don't worry Tim, I'll teach you what you need to know."
"You will?"
"Yep, you just gotta get rid of this first," and with that a little plastic baggie was thrust into his hand.
"Huh?"
'Mr Wilkes' rolled his eyes impatiently.
"I said you gotta prove yourself, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well flog this and we'll see what we can do with you."
"Uh- "
"Good. Get my money tomorrow. Seven o'clock," hidden eyes looked him up and down. "Wear something darker."
And with that, the guy vanished leaving Deeks blinking down at the baggie of white powder. He looked around him, no one was giving him weird looks. Apparently, what just happened wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Huh.
He pinched the edge of the bag and glared at it.
He wondered what Bates would say about this?
