Gaius Macer: Aequitas Equitas | Chapter 1: Superior in What Way?

Gaius Macer: Aequitas Equitas

Chapter 1: Superior in What Way?


“, Macer! You are becoming a real nuisance!” Captain Dickerson bellowed, slamming his powerful fist on the desk. The 6’3” veteran had had enough of Gaius and all the heat he’s been bringing on the Justice Department of Johnson City with his rogue cop antics.

“Listen Rockland, those two perps had it coming! Tough, wannabee thugs, going around beating up on some gay guys just for being gay!” Gaius shot back defiantly, pointing at Dickerson. “You know, they are all tough til you slip your cock up their…”

“That’s the problem, Macer! You can’t just go around fucking a perp cause you think they need it, as though it’s some kind of path to self-realization!” Dickerson interrupted. The stern Captain had been in Gaius’ position on numerous occasions. It isn’t an easy town to work in for a maverick cop who plays by no one else’s rules but his own. Every perp, every CITIZEN seems to be a bear-brute’s wet dream. Big, hulky, hairy, either muscle gutted or six packed, blue or green eyes. The 280 lbs beast just couldn’t help himself sometimes, which is probably the reason he was injured, forcing him to work a desk, sometimes sitting at it, sometimes on it, but more often than not under it. I suppose when you injure your leg in the field, you gotta adapt or be eaten by the beast of fate, so to speak.

At 52 years old, age was catching up with him anyway, he no longer had the stamina or endurance to keep up with most younger men. He isn’t some “spring chicken looking fellow”, who looked 20 years younger, in fact, he may look just a little bit older. Of course, that isn’t to say he isn’t a knockout of a man. Built like a tank, wide arms that bulged beneath the rolled up sleeves of his finely starched white dress shirt, which of itself was covered in a tiny bumps in the front, evidence of his hairy chest, a chest like the hogshead on an ancient pirate ship. His lower body was no different, even though it was clad in windowpane-style suit pants, the sheer power of his strong legs shone through. The pants also did nothing to hide his large bubble butt from sight, though it was a feature he accepted long ago, as nothing he wore hid it. All of this coupled with a handsome face, slightly wrinkled with a battle scar across his left cheek, icy blues eyes and a head of gray hair with a thick matching mustache, was it any wonder the higher-ups saw him as perfect captain’s material?

“Don’t you pretend like you weren’t the same when you were in the field! The game is different now!” Gaius growled, hands on his hips, hiking back his slightly moist trench coat, revealing one of his many finely tailored suits. This particular one was by Vittorio St. Angelo, one of the “High Fashion” series, a three button, double-breasted vest, mustard colored “hole opener” as he called it, with a satin sheen gold dress shirt and lighter paisley tie. The coat of course was a polyester-belted trench coat, slightly darker in color.

“Listen tough guy, the “game” has always been the same! Bad guys do bad things so we catch them!