Behind the Badge | An Alastor x Reader Lemon Story

J.J.

I hated reports. Really, really hated reports. If I had known how much paperwork law enforcement would entail, I might have signed up for something else. Military maybe. Nah, I had too much of an authority problem. Funny how that worked out.

My phone chimed. Thankful for the distraction from stale coffee and a mountain of reports, I picked it up and looked at the screen.

It was from Mac.

Jeffery...goes by J.J. He's here and drunk. 

That's all I needed. Thanking my lucky stars, I grabbed my coat and keys and left. 

As soon as I walked into Mac's bar, he subtly nodded towards the slumped form at the end of the bar. I walked over and tapped the form's shoulder, "Are you J.J.?"

"Oh piss off," J.J. grumbled, waving me away. I rolled my eyes, if he wanted to play it this way, then alright. Hooking my toe under the bottom rung of the bar stool, I tipped it backward.

J.J.'s rude awakening had him swearing as he hit the cold and rather gross floor. Leaning over the groaning demon, I said, "I'll piss off when you give me the information I need."

Glaring up at me, he stayed silent so I continued, "There is a man running around and killing innocent women. A gutter rat like you hears things. Now do you want to tell me what you know here or should I drag you down to the squad room and turn off the cameras?"

I watched with morbid satisfaction as J.J.'s eyes grew as wide as saucers. Staring up at me, he said in a hoarse voice, "Some...some guy was sitting next to me at the Luna Lounge last night. He kept making comments about the girls...off-color crap."

"Specifics," I interrupted.

J.J. flinched, "Stuff about how good his hands would look like wrapped around her throat...crap like that. It was disturbing."

"What did he look like? Did he give a name?" I said.

"He...he handed the waitress a credit card with the name Vinnie....something...I didn't see the last name." J.J. said.

Letting J.J. sit up, I asked, "And what did this Vinnie look like?"

"Little guy," He replied, rubbing his shoulder as he sat there on the disgusting bar floor, "Fat...kind balding."

Then he added when he saw the dark look on my face, "Oh! Oh, he had a tattoo on his neck...that...uh...the snake eating his tail thing on his wrist."

I stood up and sighed, knowing this was going to be the best lead I was going to get. So I was looking for a fat little masochist with an ouroboros tattoo. Turning on my heel, I walked back out the door and onto the sidewalk, praying that I found him before the body count went up.