JASMINE ALLEY: THE BILL SLASH FICTION

Jasmine Alley : The Lockup : Elf Boy : Nicked

title:      Nicked
author:     elf boy
            http://www.geocities.com/elves_on_speed/

fandom:     The Bill - Eastenders crossover
type:       PARODY!
pairing:    Alfie/Luke, Craig/Luke (implied)
rating:     R
spoilers:   contains references up to The Bill's episode 86.

Disclaimer: The Bill belongs to Thames Television and ITV. Eastenders
            belongs to the BBC. I've just borrowed the boys for a little
            while. No infringement of copyright intended.


==============================================

NICKED

by
elf boy


PC Luke Ashton accellerated the patrol car down Bridge Street, then
slamming into the brakes. Coming to a screeching halt alongside Albert
Square, he left the Sun Hill Panda double-parked. This was the great
thing about being a police officer, you never got a parking ticket.

He preferred to come and go in style, in a flashy white police car with
the snazzy orange stripes, cobalt blue sirens blaring - of course - and
as it was just him, one of his 700 CDs on full volume. Going out alone
also meant getting away from his sergeant's offensive collection of
Stereophonics, Manic Street Preachers and Super Furry Animals, just
another example of Craig Gilmore's sadly misguided Welsh patriotism.

The only thing Luke regretted, as he spotted Martin Fowler loitering
about the benches on Albert Square with some other youths, was that
uniform police officers were not issued with hand guns while on regular
patrol. This was hardly the Jasmine Allen, but it still would've been
amusing to upstage these little toerags a bit.

Luke took a deep breath and knocked on the doors of the Queen Vic,
surprised to find them unlocked. He entered carefully.

A full head of dark hair popped up from behind the bar. "Yeah?"

"PC Ashton, Sun 'ill Police", Luke said, whipping out his warrant card.

"Wot?"

"Lookin' for an Alfred Moon, of 3 Albert Square, born July 21st, 1963,"
he read from an official-looking form.

Alfie came around the counter and broke into a wide grin, "Now, look wot
we got 'ere...," he crooned.

"Sorry?" Luke was seemingly bewildered.

"You must be no older than me baby brother an' he's quite an 'andful
'imself," Alfie said rubbing his hands.

Luke shook his head briefly, confused, then remembering what he had come
here for. He dug a second piece of paper out of his back pocket.
"...'ang on..." Luke smoothed it out on his raised leg, not before
elaborately wiping his slightly sticky hands. Using his tea break to
have a quick wank in the Panda had not been one of his most brilliant
ideas to date. At least this time, he had managed not to stain the
dashboard.

"Alfred Moon, I'm arrestin' you under suspicion of credit card fraud."
he droned. "You do not 'ave to...say?...say anyfink. But it may 'arm
your defence if you do not mention when questioned somefink which you
later...re...rely on in court. Anyfink you do or say may
be...givin'...given in evidence." Pleased with himself at having managed
to read the whole of the police caution without too many pauses, he
concluded - looking in Alfie's direction - with a self-important smile.

Alfie was now standing less than a foot away from Luke, looking into his
big brown eyes. "You know, I'd really like to 'elp you, Constable, but
I'm so terribly busy today."

"Busy wif doin' wot?"
For the first time, Luke got a proper look at Alfie's handsome face.
Alfie was a lot older even than Craig, something that was almost
impossible for little Lukey to imagine, older by as many years as were
between Craig and Luke. Trying to work out all these numbers and
birthdates momentarily sent Luke's head spinning. But for Alfie age
didn't exactly seem to be a disadvantage, it could only mean that he was
sexually experienced. Right now, Lukey's dick was thinking exactly the
same thing.

"Look mate, if y'ain't gonna cooperate I'm gonna slap on the old
'andcuffs, awright?" Luke gently pulled Alfie towards the wall, spun him
around and reached for the quickcuffs from the side of his utility belt.

"Ah, the smell o' sex is on yer."
Alfie pushed back, leaning his head into Luke's shoulder. Despite Luke
holding Alfie's wrists firmly together, they developed a will of their
own and reached backwards toward Luke's nether regions.

"Wot you doin'," Luke squeaked, dropping the quickcuffs as he felt an
hand closing in around his stirring groin.

"Don' be embarrassed. You're 'ard again, aintcha? I can tell." Alfie
slowly turned and tediously tried to cram his hands under Luke's stab
vest. "You not gettin' enough from your Sarge, ey?"

Luke was not one bit surprised, that Albert Square was one big pit of
gossip. In light of the fact that the whole of Walford and Canley knew
that he was having it off with Craig... how Kerry could still think that
she was his one-and-only, was beyond him. He couldn't believe he'd
married such a thick bird. Luke should really have listened to Craig.
After all it was he who had asked Luke to reconsider the wedding, not
before bonking him thoroughly the night before. Always listen to the
wise words of an older man, Luke thought. Or woman. When Inspector Gold
had found them both in bed together, hurrying Luke to get dressed for
church, Craig and Luke had to fight back the impulse to burst out
laughing right in front of her. The image of a furious Gina standing in
his hotel room, with her long black leather coat, her unkempt dark-brown
hair, smouldering fag in her right and warrant card in her left, had
stuck in his mind. The only other thing that would have made the picture
complete, would have been a bottle of 12-year-old Glenfiddich. And
oooooohhh, black leather. Sometime he'd have to ask her where she'd
bought that coat.

With the soft warm mouth of a suspect nibbling his earlobe, hell,
sometimes Lukey even enjoyed being a Police Constable. If Craig could
see him now, he'd say this was not exactly standard MPS procedure. Which
made it even more exciting. As exciting as the time when Craig's no-good
boyfriend Carl had taken him in his mouth in the back of a police van,
shortly before Luke had taken *him* in for questioning over various
offences. Just like Jim Carver had a drinking problem, Luke most
probably had one with sex. But unlike Jim, he could very well live with
his little addiction.

As Alfie proceeded to unzip his dark blue uniform trousers, Luke mused
that as long as Kerry didn't play up, he wasn't going to complain. Being
married was a good cover to go around shagging lots of blokes under the
noses of the relief, something which he intended to take good advantage
of. Sod grumpy Craig and his funny ideas about exclusive relationships!
Luke was twenty-four, revelling in being immature and most definitly out
to get laid. A quickie in the morning with Kerry, a blow-job halfway
through the morning shift in the patrol car from Craig and now a leg-
over with a suspect. He idly wondered what would be next. Frottage
against the wall of the gents with Nick Klein? Being whipped by 'big
daddy' Tony Stamp? Barely a week ago, Joe Kincaid had literally thrust
his phone number upon him outside the station, the day he'd come back
from his honeymoon. There were so many men swarming around him, that
little Lukey could easily take his pick.

Contrary the impression that he had so calculatingly given Craig, Luke
Ashton had always known exactly what he wanted. He was just saving it
for the big finale. Luke loved having a big entry and a big exit. In
fact, 'big' was a word that featured prominently in his vocabulary.
Considering all the things that had gone wrong that day, his wedding had
been pretty big and dramatic. When Kerry had broken the news of her
pregnancy, he had also proved that he could play the drama queen quite
well. And he had fooled Craig a couple of times with dramatic grandeur,
but now he would have to play it cool. For his sarge to completely lose
interest would be detrimental to his future plans. These days Craig
seemed to be eternally on the verge of either throwing a hissy fit or
crying his beautiful eyes out in despair.

If little Lukey played his cards right, making one last heartwrenching
declaration of love for his beloved sarge, complete with crocodile
tears, would do the trick. Together with the promise to act out Craig's
favourite rugby locker room fantasy. He could play his sarge like a
fiddle. There were way too many demented people running around at the
moment, last but not least his annoyingly hormonal, pregnant wife. Some
would even say that Craig was the only sane person at Sun Hill, despite
the fact that his gloomy sergeant needed to seriously cheer up. Then
again, looking down at Alfie, he could think of a few ways of getting
Craig to excercise his facial muscles.

Luke sighed as his cum spilled over Alfie's hand. He mused that if he
had to die one day - as we all do - he intended to do so with a cock on
his lips. And a very big grin.

The End.


	Jasmine Alley : The Lockup : Elf Boy : Nicked
		title: Nicked author: elf boy http://www.geocities.com/elves_on_speed/ fandom: The Bill - Eastenders crossover type: PARODY! pairing: Alfie/Luke, Craig/Luke (implied) rating: R spoilers: contains references up to The Bill's episode 86. Disclaimer: The Bill belongs to Thames Television and ITV. Eastenders belongs to the BBC. I've just borrowed the boys for a little while. No infringement of copyright intended. ============================================== NICKED by elf boy PC Luke Ashton accellerated the patrol car down Bridge Street, then slamming into the brakes. Coming to a screeching halt alongside Albert Square, he left the Sun Hill Panda double-parked. This was the great thing about being a police officer, you never got a parking ticket. He preferred to come and go in style, in a flashy white police car with the snazzy orange stripes, cobalt blue sirens blaring - of course - and as it was just him, one of his 700 CDs on full volume. Going out alone also meant getting away from his sergeant's offensive collection of Stereophonics, Manic Street Preachers and Super Furry Animals, just another example of Craig Gilmore's sadly misguided Welsh patriotism. The only thing Luke regretted, as he spotted Martin Fowler loitering about the benches on Albert Square with some other youths, was that uniform police officers were not issued with hand guns while on regular patrol. This was hardly the Jasmine Allen, but it still would've been amusing to upstage these little toerags a bit. Luke took a deep breath and knocked on the doors of the Queen Vic, surprised to find them unlocked. He entered carefully. A full head of dark hair popped up from behind the bar. "Yeah?" "PC Ashton, Sun 'ill Police", Luke said, whipping out his warrant card. "Wot?" "Lookin' for an Alfred Moon, of 3 Albert Square, born July 21st, 1963," he read from an official-looking form. Alfie came around the counter and broke into a wide grin, "Now, look wot we got 'ere...," he crooned. "Sorry?" Luke was seemingly bewildered. "You must be no older than me baby brother an' he's quite an 'andful 'imself," Alfie said rubbing his hands. Luke shook his head briefly, confused, then remembering what he had come here for. He dug a second piece of paper out of his back pocket. "...'ang on..." Luke smoothed it out on his raised leg, not before elaborately wiping his slightly sticky hands. Using his tea break to have a quick wank in the Panda had not been one of his most brilliant ideas to date. At least this time, he had managed not to stain the dashboard. "Alfred Moon, I'm arrestin' you under suspicion of credit card fraud." he droned. "You do not 'ave to...say?...say anyfink. But it may 'arm your defence if you do not mention when questioned somefink which you later...re...rely on in court. Anyfink you do or say may be...givin'...given in evidence." Pleased with himself at having managed to read the whole of the police caution without too many pauses, he concluded - looking in Alfie's direction - with a self-important smile. Alfie was now standing less than a foot away from Luke, looking into his big brown eyes. "You know, I'd really like to 'elp you, Constable, but I'm so terribly busy today." "Busy wif doin' wot?" For the first time, Luke got a proper look at Alfie's handsome face. Alfie was a lot older even than Craig, something that was almost impossible for little Lukey to imagine, older by as many years as were between Craig and Luke. Trying to work out all these numbers and birthdates momentarily sent Luke's head spinning. But for Alfie age didn't exactly seem to be a disadvantage, it could only mean that he was sexually experienced. Right now, Lukey's dick was thinking exactly the same thing. "Look mate, if y'ain't gonna cooperate I'm gonna slap on the old 'andcuffs, awright?" Luke gently pulled Alfie towards the wall, spun him around and reached for the quickcuffs from the side of his utility belt. "Ah, the smell o' sex is on yer." Alfie pushed back, leaning his head into Luke's shoulder. Despite Luke holding Alfie's wrists firmly together, they developed a will of their own and reached backwards toward Luke's nether regions. "Wot you doin'," Luke squeaked, dropping the quickcuffs as he felt an hand closing in around his stirring groin. "Don' be embarrassed. You're 'ard again, aintcha? I can tell." Alfie slowly turned and tediously tried to cram his hands under Luke's stab vest. "You not gettin' enough from your Sarge, ey?" Luke was not one bit surprised, that Albert Square was one big pit of gossip. In light of the fact that the whole of Walford and Canley knew that he was having it off with Craig... how Kerry could still think that she was his one-and-only, was beyond him. He couldn't believe he'd married such a thick bird. Luke should really have listened to Craig. After all it was he who had asked Luke to reconsider the wedding, not before bonking him thoroughly the night before. Always listen to the wise words of an older man, Luke thought. Or woman. When Inspector Gold had found them both in bed together, hurrying Luke to get dressed for church, Craig and Luke had to fight back the impulse to burst out laughing right in front of her. The image of a furious Gina standing in his hotel room, with her long black leather coat, her unkempt dark-brown hair, smouldering fag in her right and warrant card in her left, had stuck in his mind. The only other thing that would have made the picture complete, would have been a bottle of 12-year-old Glenfiddich. And oooooohhh, black leather. Sometime he'd have to ask her where she'd bought that coat. With the soft warm mouth of a suspect nibbling his earlobe, hell, sometimes Lukey even enjoyed being a Police Constable. If Craig could see him now, he'd say this was not exactly standard MPS procedure. Which made it even more exciting. As exciting as the time when Craig's no-good boyfriend Carl had taken him in his mouth in the back of a police van, shortly before Luke had taken him in for questioning over various offences. Just like Jim Carver had a drinking problem, Luke most probably had one with sex. But unlike Jim, he could very well live with his little addiction. As Alfie proceeded to unzip his dark blue uniform trousers, Luke mused that as long as Kerry didn't play up, he wasn't going to complain. Being married was a good cover to go around shagging lots of blokes under the noses of the relief, something which he intended to take good advantage of. Sod grumpy Craig and his funny ideas about exclusive relationships! Luke was twenty-four, revelling in being immature and most definitly out to get laid. A quickie in the morning with Kerry, a blow-job halfway through the morning shift in the patrol car from Craig and now a leg- over with a suspect. He idly wondered what would be next. Frottage against the wall of the gents with Nick Klein? Being whipped by 'big daddy' Tony Stamp? Barely a week ago, Joe Kincaid had literally thrust his phone number upon him outside the station, the day he'd come back from his honeymoon. There were so many men swarming around him, that little Lukey could easily take his pick. Contrary the impression that he had so calculatingly given Craig, Luke Ashton had always known exactly what he wanted. He was just saving it for the big finale. Luke loved having a big entry and a big exit. In fact, 'big' was a word that featured prominently in his vocabulary. Considering all the things that had gone wrong that day, his wedding had been pretty big and dramatic. When Kerry had broken the news of her pregnancy, he had also proved that he could play the drama queen quite well. And he had fooled Craig a couple of times with dramatic grandeur, but now he would have to play it cool. For his sarge to completely lose interest would be detrimental to his future plans. These days Craig seemed to be eternally on the verge of either throwing a hissy fit or crying his beautiful eyes out in despair. If little Lukey played his cards right, making one last heartwrenching declaration of love for his beloved sarge, complete with crocodile tears, would do the trick. Together with the promise to act out Craig's favourite rugby locker room fantasy. He could play his sarge like a fiddle. There were way too many demented people running around at the moment, last but not least his annoyingly hormonal, pregnant wife. Some would even say that Craig was the only sane person at Sun Hill, despite the fact that his gloomy sergeant needed to seriously cheer up. Then again, looking down at Alfie, he could think of a few ways of getting Craig to excercise his facial muscles. Luke sighed as his cum spilled over Alfie's hand. He mused that if he had to die one day - as we all do - he intended to do so with a cock on his lips. And a very big grin. The End.

(c) Watching Since Woodentop 1996-2007