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wolfanficsTitle: All Care And No Responsibility
Author: Sashataakheru
Fandom: Il Commissario Montalbano (Inspector Montalbano)
Starring: Salvo Montalbano, Mimì Augello, Fazio, Beba, Mimì’s wife (who’s also pregnant, yay)
Pairings: Salvo/Mimì, Mimì/Beba, with a side of implied Salvo/Fazio
Spoilers: mostly for Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point), though nothing more than vague references for the episodes previous to that.
Word Count: 1,463
Warnings: language, slashy references, angst.
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Montalbano et al, belong to Andrea Camilleri; I’m just borrowing them to fulfil my own slashy desires. XD
Author's Notes/Summary: Um, Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point) was molto slashy, so I had to write about it. XD Takes place a week post-Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point). Salvo’s disappeared and Mimì doesn’t know where he is.
OMG I WROTE FANFIC INVOLVING FICTIONAL CHARACTERS! *ded*
Um, this will probably make no sense if you haven't seen Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point). Or any other Montalbano movies. But this is Salvo and Mimì, so you have some idea who I'm talking about, and this is Catarella, Salvo and Fazio. Yay. It's very hard to find decent pictures, you know.
Also, I resisted the urge to write this completely in Italian. XD
And since my dad's up now, I should go to bed.
All Care And No Responsibility
Mimì never liked it when they fought, but sometimes Salvo was far too stubborn to reason with. The trouble was all their arguments were the same by now. He knew how they went, and when he was eventually proved right, Salvo was always so reluctant to apologise. So it was today. It was practically a lover’s tiff in the middle of the police station, Mimì knew it, even if they weren’t fighting about each other. Salvo always loved being right, prided himself on how clever he was, so when he found himself proved wrong on occasion, it took all Mimì’s strength not to gloat about it. He contented himself with keeping his smug comments to himself. Besides, Salvo would always be harder on himself than on others. He was a good cop; Mimì admired him a lot, probably more than Salvo realised. It was that admiration that had drawn them together in the first place. Mimì liked to think about that every now and then, when things were quiet, not that that was very often. Being a cop never leant itself to much quiet time.
But after what had happened at the old tuna factory, Mimì found it so hard to stay away. Salvo had been injured, Mimì had been terrified he’d lose him, but he pulled through, much to Mimì’s relief. But then Salvo had disappeared. Fazio said he didn’t know where he was. Mimì didn’t like that. He didn’t like not knowing what had happened to him. He put up with it, because Salvo had a habit of turning up again when he was needed, but it still worried him, not knowing.
Mimì had called him once, but his phone was out of range. He figured then that Salvo didn’t want to be found, at least for the moment. He had a niggling idea where he might’ve gone, but he felt it better if he just waited til Salvo returned on his own. If Salvo wanted time alone, so be it. He probably deserved it. But Mimì would still worry about him, as always.
Three nights later after Salvo had gone, Mimì found himself down at the old tuna factory, standing on the shore, staring out at the ocean, wondering if Salvo was swimming out there, like always. Was he really in hiding? Had he been killed? Was someone else behind this? He didn’t think he’d be able to calm down until Salvo returned to him.
“Salvo, you come back to me, you bastard!”
Mimì found himself shouting at the water, throwing a rock into the sea. The ocean was temporarily disturbed, ripples getting quickly lost in the incoming waves as the sky rapidly darkened around him. No one else was around now, Mimì was sure of that. They’d made sure the place was devoid of life before they left. They’d saved the children from a horrible fate, which Mimì could be thankful for. Salvo had told him what Melato had said about the fates of illegal children smuggled into the country. Both of them had taken some comfort in knowing they’d saved some of them from certain death. There would always be smugglers, though. There would always be people willing to sacrifice everything for a better life, and people more than willing to exploit them.
Mimì’s phone rang, disturbing the silence. He barely let it ring before he answered it.
“What is it? I’m-”
“Where are you, Mimì? I want you to come home,” came Beba’s voice.
“I have things to do, Beba, I-”
“I miss you. I haven’t seen you at all lately. You’ve been working too much. Please, come home. What are you doing out there anyway?” Beba said.
“I just have a few things to clear up. I’ll be home soon, alright?” Mimì pleaded.
“You’d better be. I want you back here with me. I love you,” Beba said.
“Love you too, Beba,” Mimì said, ending the call and stuffing his phone away in his jacket.
Mimì was still distracted as he drove home. Sleep was hard to come by. In his dreams, he met Salvo on the beach. They swam together in the ocean, with Mimì always telling Salvo to stay close. Then Salvo cooked them dinner, and Mimì couldn’t remember a meal that had ever tasted as good as that. They lay on his bed together, eyes locked, just enjoying the silence, listening to the waves crashing against the sand.
Mimì carried that dream with him for the next four days until Salvo returned. A part of Mimì was able to forgive him for disappearing as he was so glad to have him back, but he was still angry at Salvo for not telling him what was going on. It had been a week of hell, not knowing, and Mimì wanted to make sure Salvo knew that. But he saved it for when they were alone and away from the station. There were things Mimì wanted to say to Salvo that only he was supposed to hear.
They were standing on his patio now, gazing over the ocean. Salvo had poured them both a drink. Mimì kept his gaze over the ocean, as much as he wanted to look at Salvo alone. He needed to concentrate. He knew he’d never be able to say what he wanted to say if he let Salvo distract him.
“Why?” was all the question Mimì could form.
“I had to. I needed to clear my head. Besides, I didn’t need you and Fazio fawning all over me like some wounded soldier,” Salvo said dismissively.
“But you were a wounded soldier,” Mimì corrected.
“Not for the first time, if you remember,” Salvo said.
“I wasn’t as worried about you as this time though,” Mimì said, finishing his drink.
“It was nothing. I’m still alive. What more do you want?” Salvo said.
“I just want you,” Mimì said.
Salvo didn’t respond.
“Fazio knew the whole time, didn’t he?” Mimì said after a while.
“Yes. I needed his help. I told him not to tell anyone where I was,” Salvo said.
“Wasn’t I good enough to help?” Mimì said, slightly angry that Fazio had taken priority over him.
“You were busy, and Fazio was there anyway, so he got to help out. I would’ve asked you had you been around,” Salvo said.
“Is he a better fuck than me?” Mimì said, hiding the bitterness in his voice.
“Is that what this is about? When did you suddenly get jealous?” Salvo said, turning to face him.
“When I had to spend a whole week worrying whether you were still alive, that’s when. Not a word, a letter, nothing. You vanish into thin air, and then I find out Fazio knew all along. And you wonder why I’m jealous? You’re mine, aren’t you? Or have you changed your mind since you’ve been away?” Mimì said.
“It’s nothing. Fazio’s sweet, but he’s not you. Were you really that worried about me?” Salvo said, almost not believing it.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. You could’ve been kidnapped, killed, run off somewhere. How was I supposed to know you were alright?” Mimì said.
“I always come back, don’t I? I’ve never disappeared for good. Have a little faith in me, Mimì,” Salvo said.
Mimì found himself melting as Salvo held him. He couldn’t deny the fire in Salvo’s eyes. He saw trust, and love, and honesty. He cupped Salvo’s face with a hand, content just to touch him for the moment.
“I just wish you’d told me. But you’ve never been good at listening to me,” Mimì said with a grin.
“You would’ve tried to talk me out of it. I needed to go, hence I asked Fazio. And don’t you pout at me like that. Is it too much to ask you to be happy that I’m back?” Salvo said.
“Just give me warning when you’re thinking of vanishing again. Otherwise, I really will think something’s happened to you and I’ll worry that a week later, we’ll be fishing your body out of the sea,” Mimì said.
“Mimì, have they killed me yet? No, so don’t go worrying about me. Now, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late,” Salvo said, ushering Mimì inside.
They lay under the covers on the bed together, their eyes refusing to look anywhere else than at each other. Salvo grasped Mimì’s shoulder before leaning in to kiss him goodnight. Mimì curled up in Salvo’s arms as he closed his eyes and fell asleep, savouring this one moment before they would have to go back to work and pretend like this never happened. But then Mimì didn’t think anything else mattered right now. He had his Salvo back. All was right with the world once more.
Author: Sashataakheru
Fandom: Il Commissario Montalbano (Inspector Montalbano)
Starring: Salvo Montalbano, Mimì Augello, Fazio, Beba, Mimì’s wife (who’s also pregnant, yay)
Pairings: Salvo/Mimì, Mimì/Beba, with a side of implied Salvo/Fazio
Spoilers: mostly for Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point), though nothing more than vague references for the episodes previous to that.
Word Count: 1,463
Warnings: language, slashy references, angst.
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Montalbano et al, belong to Andrea Camilleri; I’m just borrowing them to fulfil my own slashy desires. XD
Author's Notes/Summary: Um, Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point) was molto slashy, so I had to write about it. XD Takes place a week post-Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point). Salvo’s disappeared and Mimì doesn’t know where he is.
OMG I WROTE FANFIC INVOLVING FICTIONAL CHARACTERS! *ded*
Um, this will probably make no sense if you haven't seen Il Giro Di Boa (Turning Point). Or any other Montalbano movies. But this is Salvo and Mimì, so you have some idea who I'm talking about, and this is Catarella, Salvo and Fazio. Yay. It's very hard to find decent pictures, you know.
Also, I resisted the urge to write this completely in Italian. XD
And since my dad's up now, I should go to bed.
All Care And No Responsibility
Mimì never liked it when they fought, but sometimes Salvo was far too stubborn to reason with. The trouble was all their arguments were the same by now. He knew how they went, and when he was eventually proved right, Salvo was always so reluctant to apologise. So it was today. It was practically a lover’s tiff in the middle of the police station, Mimì knew it, even if they weren’t fighting about each other. Salvo always loved being right, prided himself on how clever he was, so when he found himself proved wrong on occasion, it took all Mimì’s strength not to gloat about it. He contented himself with keeping his smug comments to himself. Besides, Salvo would always be harder on himself than on others. He was a good cop; Mimì admired him a lot, probably more than Salvo realised. It was that admiration that had drawn them together in the first place. Mimì liked to think about that every now and then, when things were quiet, not that that was very often. Being a cop never leant itself to much quiet time.
But after what had happened at the old tuna factory, Mimì found it so hard to stay away. Salvo had been injured, Mimì had been terrified he’d lose him, but he pulled through, much to Mimì’s relief. But then Salvo had disappeared. Fazio said he didn’t know where he was. Mimì didn’t like that. He didn’t like not knowing what had happened to him. He put up with it, because Salvo had a habit of turning up again when he was needed, but it still worried him, not knowing.
Mimì had called him once, but his phone was out of range. He figured then that Salvo didn’t want to be found, at least for the moment. He had a niggling idea where he might’ve gone, but he felt it better if he just waited til Salvo returned on his own. If Salvo wanted time alone, so be it. He probably deserved it. But Mimì would still worry about him, as always.
Three nights later after Salvo had gone, Mimì found himself down at the old tuna factory, standing on the shore, staring out at the ocean, wondering if Salvo was swimming out there, like always. Was he really in hiding? Had he been killed? Was someone else behind this? He didn’t think he’d be able to calm down until Salvo returned to him.
“Salvo, you come back to me, you bastard!”
Mimì found himself shouting at the water, throwing a rock into the sea. The ocean was temporarily disturbed, ripples getting quickly lost in the incoming waves as the sky rapidly darkened around him. No one else was around now, Mimì was sure of that. They’d made sure the place was devoid of life before they left. They’d saved the children from a horrible fate, which Mimì could be thankful for. Salvo had told him what Melato had said about the fates of illegal children smuggled into the country. Both of them had taken some comfort in knowing they’d saved some of them from certain death. There would always be smugglers, though. There would always be people willing to sacrifice everything for a better life, and people more than willing to exploit them.
Mimì’s phone rang, disturbing the silence. He barely let it ring before he answered it.
“What is it? I’m-”
“Where are you, Mimì? I want you to come home,” came Beba’s voice.
“I have things to do, Beba, I-”
“I miss you. I haven’t seen you at all lately. You’ve been working too much. Please, come home. What are you doing out there anyway?” Beba said.
“I just have a few things to clear up. I’ll be home soon, alright?” Mimì pleaded.
“You’d better be. I want you back here with me. I love you,” Beba said.
“Love you too, Beba,” Mimì said, ending the call and stuffing his phone away in his jacket.
Mimì was still distracted as he drove home. Sleep was hard to come by. In his dreams, he met Salvo on the beach. They swam together in the ocean, with Mimì always telling Salvo to stay close. Then Salvo cooked them dinner, and Mimì couldn’t remember a meal that had ever tasted as good as that. They lay on his bed together, eyes locked, just enjoying the silence, listening to the waves crashing against the sand.
Mimì carried that dream with him for the next four days until Salvo returned. A part of Mimì was able to forgive him for disappearing as he was so glad to have him back, but he was still angry at Salvo for not telling him what was going on. It had been a week of hell, not knowing, and Mimì wanted to make sure Salvo knew that. But he saved it for when they were alone and away from the station. There were things Mimì wanted to say to Salvo that only he was supposed to hear.
They were standing on his patio now, gazing over the ocean. Salvo had poured them both a drink. Mimì kept his gaze over the ocean, as much as he wanted to look at Salvo alone. He needed to concentrate. He knew he’d never be able to say what he wanted to say if he let Salvo distract him.
“Why?” was all the question Mimì could form.
“I had to. I needed to clear my head. Besides, I didn’t need you and Fazio fawning all over me like some wounded soldier,” Salvo said dismissively.
“But you were a wounded soldier,” Mimì corrected.
“Not for the first time, if you remember,” Salvo said.
“I wasn’t as worried about you as this time though,” Mimì said, finishing his drink.
“It was nothing. I’m still alive. What more do you want?” Salvo said.
“I just want you,” Mimì said.
Salvo didn’t respond.
“Fazio knew the whole time, didn’t he?” Mimì said after a while.
“Yes. I needed his help. I told him not to tell anyone where I was,” Salvo said.
“Wasn’t I good enough to help?” Mimì said, slightly angry that Fazio had taken priority over him.
“You were busy, and Fazio was there anyway, so he got to help out. I would’ve asked you had you been around,” Salvo said.
“Is he a better fuck than me?” Mimì said, hiding the bitterness in his voice.
“Is that what this is about? When did you suddenly get jealous?” Salvo said, turning to face him.
“When I had to spend a whole week worrying whether you were still alive, that’s when. Not a word, a letter, nothing. You vanish into thin air, and then I find out Fazio knew all along. And you wonder why I’m jealous? You’re mine, aren’t you? Or have you changed your mind since you’ve been away?” Mimì said.
“It’s nothing. Fazio’s sweet, but he’s not you. Were you really that worried about me?” Salvo said, almost not believing it.
“Yes, as a matter of fact. You could’ve been kidnapped, killed, run off somewhere. How was I supposed to know you were alright?” Mimì said.
“I always come back, don’t I? I’ve never disappeared for good. Have a little faith in me, Mimì,” Salvo said.
Mimì found himself melting as Salvo held him. He couldn’t deny the fire in Salvo’s eyes. He saw trust, and love, and honesty. He cupped Salvo’s face with a hand, content just to touch him for the moment.
“I just wish you’d told me. But you’ve never been good at listening to me,” Mimì said with a grin.
“You would’ve tried to talk me out of it. I needed to go, hence I asked Fazio. And don’t you pout at me like that. Is it too much to ask you to be happy that I’m back?” Salvo said.
“Just give me warning when you’re thinking of vanishing again. Otherwise, I really will think something’s happened to you and I’ll worry that a week later, we’ll be fishing your body out of the sea,” Mimì said.
“Mimì, have they killed me yet? No, so don’t go worrying about me. Now, let’s go to bed. It’s getting late,” Salvo said, ushering Mimì inside.
They lay under the covers on the bed together, their eyes refusing to look anywhere else than at each other. Salvo grasped Mimì’s shoulder before leaning in to kiss him goodnight. Mimì curled up in Salvo’s arms as he closed his eyes and fell asleep, savouring this one moment before they would have to go back to work and pretend like this never happened. But then Mimì didn’t think anything else mattered right now. He had his Salvo back. All was right with the world once more.
