OK, here we go. It's time to work on the Halloween story. I've been planning on this for the past month, DayDreamer was kind enough to help me with the costumes (Thanks Day!), and now it's time to actually work on it. I'll admit that my muses have been rather quiet this week. I finally finished my DS story and sent it out, then I spent the weekend off of the computer. Didn't help to discover that the stinking machine ate the programming for the Internet again. Sigh. I was going through the emails this morning before work and the muses suddenly bashed me with the beginning. Please understand, I only had the costumes picked out. Everything else is up to the muses.
As usual, I don't make any money at this and, for the most part, the characters don't belong to me, so I'd appreciate it if no one sued me over this. The situations are mine, as is the silliness. Thanks go to Wolfpup, as always for providing me such a lovely home for my ramblings.
Hero Du Jour-Major Crime-The Halloween Party
(or, where did everybody go when it was time to clean up this mess?)
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It was all Rhonda's idea. The wonderful office assistant to the captain of Major Crime had come up with the idea, enlisted the help of Joel Taggart's wife, Mable, and the rest, as they say, was history. She looked around. There was a beautifully designed and built haunted house in one corner of the indoor arena which was the home of the local basketball team, the Jaguars. There was a live band of costumed cops, Keystone Kops, to be exact. She smiled as she looked at the nearly three hundred kids having a great time. The younger ones were safe here from the many possible predators out on the streets tonight. The older kids were off the street and being kept out of trouble. Some of the older kids had even decided to help out with entertaining the younger ones. There were no fights and very few problems. Probably came from all the cops in the arena. She smiled smugly at the mutt-and-jeff pair working with the youngest children. The sight of the pair brought tears of laughter to her eyes every time she saw them; but the children loved them.
"Mable, I need your help." Rhonda informed the wife of one of the detectives in her unit.
"What can I do to help?" Was Mable's immediate reply.
"I've been roped into running the Safety for Halloween party. I'm totally at a loss. How do I get the guys to come? How do I get them into costumes, how do I do this? I've never even been involved with this or even anything like it before."
"How'd you get roped into it? Miss a meeting?"
"How'd you guess? I was at my grandmother's funeral and when I came back, I was told I was in charge. No way out. Help! Please?" Plaintive pleading in her voice.
"Hmmmmm. Let me think a minute. You want all our guys there, right? With any and all significant others?"
"That would be great. So, how do I do it?" Finally, a ray of hope in her darkness of despair. Losing her grandmother had been traumatic, but coming back to find she'd been railroaded into being in charge left her totally at a loss for how to proceed; so, she turned to the one person she knew would be willing to help.
"Well...." There was a lengthy pause. "Oh, I have a lovely idea for costumes. What if we provide the guys and their S.O.s with the costumes? And, they don't get to pick their own?"
"What?!" She thought about it, "Who would pick them out?" intrigued with the idea.
"Well, hand out ballots, everyone's name on it, with a blank beside the name, then you hand them out to the guys and have them write in what costume they think fits everyone else...then take back the ballots and see how many different suggestions you get, if there's duplicates as to the suggestions, then that's how you decide what their costume should be. If there is an S.O., then they should be taken as a couple. Like Joel and me, or Simon and his son, Daryl. Partners shouldn't actually be considered a unit, though. What do you think?"
"I like it. I like it a lot." Smiling. She knew she could talk all the guys from Major Crime into helping out... Especially since Halloween was on a Saturday and they were all good men who took their protection of the city very seriously. She'd rope in the Office Assistants from Vice, Homicide, Forensics, Juvenile, and the uniformed divisions to do the same thing. First finding out who would actually come, then... "Thanks tons, Mable. I knew you could put me on the right track."
"Any time, dear. Let me know if you need anything else, OK?" Mable smiled, starting to look forward to the upcoming party.
"OK, you guys. Listen up. That means you, too, Blair." Rhonda had cornered them all in the bullpen. "I need all of you to help me with a task I was given when I was on leave." Setting them up, knowing that they were all perfectly aware that she'd been shanghaied into this; even though they hadn't been involved, they would still back her up. "I have some ballots here. I want you to write down what costume you think everyone should wear for the Halloween party. Don't look at me in that tone of voice, Captain. Just remember, it's for the kids." That worked. Everyone settled down. She passed out the ballots. "Now, don't share the information you give with anyone, not even your partner. Understand?" Nods. "Good. When you're finished, bring me your ballot, I'll tally up the votes and arrange the costumes. No one will get to know what anyone else is wearing until you see each other on Halloween, get it?" More nods. Surreptitious glances at one another, trying to decide what costume they could see their colleagues in. Rhonda turned and went to her desk, smiling and wondering what they would come up with.
Simon Banks and Daryl Henry Brown
Megan Connor
James Ellison
Brian Rafe
Blair Sandburg
Joel and Mable Taggart
"Hey, Rhonda, why isn't your name on here?" Blair asked.
"Because I'm in charge." Smiling sweetly.
"Oh. OK."
She was surprised by some of the answers. More surprised by the number of duplicates. For Simon and Daryl, there were a couple of really good possibilities, Frankenstein and Igor, Mutt and Jeff (that had to be from Joel, the only one really old enough to remember the comic strip, or maybe Blair who, although younger than all the others, had just such an eclectic past), Oh, perfect. This was the one. She smiled as she wrote down the costumes. Wondering who had suggested it? It kind of looked like Ellison's writing.
Henry Brown. Oh, that was cute, Henry as a teddy bear. She could picture it. But wait, there were two votes for...She quickly looked at the votes for Rafe. Sure enough, the same matching votes for him... She smiled smugly and wrote down their costumes.
Megan Connor...Three votes for that one. It must be the right one, then.
Jim Ellison. Big surprise there. Everyone voted for the same costume. He was going to hate this. Giggling as she wrote it down.
Blair Sandburg. Five votes for the same costume. Almost as bad as Jim's. Worse, possibly, for the grad student/observer. At least from his point of view, but perfectly fitting his personality.
Joel and Mable. Awww. How sweet. It looked like Ellison's handwriting, again. But there were two others with similar ideas. Hmmm. Which one to choose? Well, we don't have seven dwarves, so that lets out Snow White; and, although Joel could pass for a beast, he was really much more of a big cuddly teddy bear, so, that left...
She finished her list, smiling at the pictures of them in costume in her mind. Now, where to find the costumes themselves?
Since Mable was such a big help, managing to get the Jags to donate use of the arena to the cause and all the little problems that had come up, she allowed the older woman to know what costumes had been chosen. She laughed at Jim's and Blair's costumes, as well as partners Brown and Rafe. When she got to see the ballots, she was able to pick out everyone's handwriting, a little surprised that Jim had been responsible for both Simon and Daryl's costumes, as well as Joel's and hers. She smiled.
"So, Rhonda, what are you going as?" She finally asked, looking up at the younger woman.
"I hadn't even thought about that. Any suggestions?"
"Well..." Looking at her. Thinking. "Hmmmm. Why don't you go as the Queen of Hearts, you know, so you can yell 'Off with their heads!' at opportune moments? With the Chief of Police as the King of Hearts?" Knowing that the Chief had recently gone through a rather messy divorce.
"Ooh. That would be too cruel. Maybe Dan Wolf will be so kind as to escort me?"
"So, ask him." Smiling.
She roped a dozen officers into helping set up for the party. Simon had been kind enough to offer up his men to build the haunted house. They had worked like crazy to get it done in time. Laughing and carrying on like teen-agers. Rhonda overseered the entire thing, the building, the putting up of decorations, the catering. By the time everything was ready, she was ready to drop. Fortunately, there were still several hours before the event, which would allow her a nap, providing no one came up with any more problems.
They didn't. She stayed at the arena and took a nap in one of the lounges. At four p.m., she was in costume and ready for the officers to arrive. She could hardly wait to see their reactions to the costumes.
Jim and Blair were the first from Major Crime to arrive to get dressed for the party. Jim took one look at his costume and blushed scarlet.
"There is no way I am going to put this on. No. Never."
"You have no choice, Jim. Everyone, and I mean everyone voted for this costume for you. It just seemed fitting." Rhonda insisted. Smiling as Jim caught a look at Blair's costume and the priceless look on his face. She was glad she'd hidden the video cameras to catch this moment.
"Oh, man. Oh, no. I suppose everyone picked this out for me, too?" Casting a pitiful glance at his partner before turning his best puppy-dog expression on Rhonda.
"Well, almost everyone. Someone thought you should be a, what was the term, oh, yes." She giggled. "They thought you should be a 'Teddy Blair'." Laughing out loud at the younger man's distress. Seeing Jim flinch at her description.
"I wrote 'Teddy bear', Rhonda." Trying to salvage an iota of dignity, not to mention avoid the wrath of his partner. "Although, this seems a pretty accurate description of you, Chief."
"Yeah. Just like yours is. Which is why every one of us voted for it." Smirking.
"Yeah. OK. At least I'm not pink." Dodging the half-serious punch.
"OK, guys. Get down to the locker room and get your costumes on. I suppose if I had linked partners together, you'd have come out as Batman and Robin." Shooing them on their way. Simon and his son were the next to arrive. She handed them their costumes.
"What's this?" Daryl asked, holding up the tights to his costume. Simon stared in dismay, recognizing it.
"It's a sixteenth century Spanish costume. I suppose mine has some armor to go with it?" Almost cringing in anticipation, he opened his box. "Yep. Well, it could be worse, I suppose." He looked at his son. "Come on, Daryl. I'll help you get dressed, and you can help me." Leading the way to the locker room.
"What do you mean, we're costumed as partners?" Brown whined. "Oh, man. This is...good. Actually, I can see us as this. How 'bout you, Brian?" Turning to his confused partner. Seeing that he didn't get the connection, he grabbed him by the arm and steered him away, explaining who they were meant to be.
"Who's idea was this?" Megan Connor asked, staring into the box. "I suppose I should be grateful that they didn't pick Xena." Sighing and heading to the visitor's locker room, which had been set aside for the ladies.
Only Joel and Mable were unsurprised by their costumes. Joel was secretly pleased, as well. Even if he was going to look like a fool in tights. Good thing he'd lost some weight. Even better that his excess weight wasn't in his legs. He kissed his wife and headed for the locker room to change. Once her people were taken care of, Rhonda headed for the women's locker room to give Mable a hand, if she needed it.
The adults and teens were mostly hanging out by the band, dancing and having a good time. The guys from Major Crime were pretty much taking care of the younger children, Jim and Blair were the center of attention for the pre-school crowd, being two of the most recognizable and familiar characters. The older children and younger teens who had seen some old-time black and white slapstick comedies, were thrilled with Brown and Rafe. They could go on the road with their impromptu comedy act. Brown played Oliver Hardy to the hilt. Rafe's Stan Laurel was almost as good. Some of the adults had spotted their act and gone to bring their friends to see them.
Joel and Mable were also with the pre-schoolers. Mable was telling them stories. Including her own version of Cinderella, with Joel as her Prince Charming. Jim had certainly pegged them right. They were perfect as the fairy-tale couple.
She looked over at her boss and his son. Jim had been right about them, as well. Simon made a wonderful Don Quixote, and Daryl a very convincing Sancho Panza. She smiled at the fun the pair were having. Wishing she had included a windmill for Simon to joust with.
Megan was the center of attention of all unattached males from twelve and up. She was beautiful as WonderWoman. Her skimpy costume had all of them staring and drooling. She laughed at Megan's discomfort, watching the action. The other super-hero came over and whispered something in Megan's ear. Megan's eyes widened and she stared in shock at him. Rhonda saw Jim, as Superman, smirk. Then Megan started laughing and followed Jim back to the little children, where she was the center of attention for a different reason. Rhonda wondered what Jim/Superman could have said?
"Hey, Megan." Jim spoke softly as he came close to the Australian. She turned toward him, hope on her face for a rescue from the surrounding group of teen-aged boys who were altogether too busy trying to get a peek down her bodice.
"Jim. Am I glad to see you. Can you get me out of here? I can't believe that you guys put me in this awful costume." Looking around the room at all the other costumed characters the cops had become.
"Hey, be grateful you didn't get Cassie's costume." He whispered in her ear. Megan looked around, seeking the Forensics' Chief.
"Where is she? What's her costume?" Unsuccessful at finding the other woman.
"She's been hiding out in the haunted house for the past hour. I guess that I wasn't the only one to call her that."
Brow furrowed in confusion, Megan looked askance at the tall American.
"She's Nancy Drew." Megan looked blank for a moment, then burst out laughing.
"Oh. My. That does make me feel better. Now if I could just get rid of my admirers..."
"That's easy. Come help me entertain the little kids. They'll take one look at you and you'll have a totally different kind of entourage." She smiled up at him and took his offered arm, leaving the dismayed young men behind.
"Oh, Sandy, I love your costume!" Megan exclaimed when she saw the young man, who scowled at her.
"Well, you helped decide it for me." He snarled.
"Hey, easy, Chief. This is for the children, remember? They're having a ball, and they love you." He gestured to the little girl who was clinging to his partner's hand.
"That's easy for you to say. At least you get to be a superhero. I'm just an advertising gimmick."
"I'd trade you, Chief." Jim offered. Megan stepped in.
"Jim, you look wonderful. That costume, it's just, well, it's you. You look fantastic in it, may I add? I can't picture anyone better able to fill that one than you." Smirking as she allowed her eyes to drift down over his well delineated body; his nearly perfect musculature only highlighted by the skin-tight costume. She couldn't prevent a lingering glance. Shaking her head she looked up to find him blushing.
"Next time, I'll leave you to the stares." He murmured in his embarrassment. Megan's eyes widened with the realization that she had just done to her colleague what had been done to her, and he rescued her from.
"I'm sorry, Jim. But you do look marvelous in that outfit. At least you were smart enough to pick out small children to deal with. They aren't likely to get beyond the muscles." Unable to resist another smirk.
"I didn't pick them out. They took one look at Blair and me, and we were instantly the center of their attention. Of course, it's pretty hard to miss a hundred and fifty pound pink bunny with a big bass drum." Grinning at said bunny. He looked down at a little boy, who was tugging at his cape. He crouched beside the child. "What can I do for you?" he asked, softly.
"Can you fly?"
"Well, not tonight. I don't want to accidentally run into any witches. It's their night to fly, don't you think?" It was obvious that the little boy seriously considered 'Superman's' question. Then nodded solemnly in agreement. Having gotten his answer, he went to sit by Cinderella, who was telling stories.
Blair watched the kids having fun. It was nice. This was a safe, fun alternative to the traditional trick-or-treating. Too bad that it had become too dangerous to continue the tradition of going house to house, but this was at least as much fun, and the kids still got lots of candy to take home with them. Another advantage of this was that all ages were able to have fun at the same time and in the same place. Fewer problems, and they could get by with a lot less supervision, although, there were probably enough cops here to set one cop to every ten or twelve children. Most were simply having a good time, just there in case of trouble. The ones actually working were quite limited. The Taggarts, Jim, Blair, and, now, Megan, had the smallest children enthralled. Simon and Daryl were handling the younger grade-schoolers, with some of the older preschool children joining them. The teens and adults were having a lot of fun with Laurel and Hardy, who seemed to really be getting into the spirit of the evening. All in all, it was quite a successful party.
"Damn it, Blair. Stop bouncing." Jim growled. The party was over, finally, the last of the guests having left. Now they had the cleanup to do. It was amazing how everyone disappeared when it got close to the time when they'd have to do any work. It was left to Major Crimes to tear down the haunted house, the decorations, and, in general, clean up. Everyone was annoyed by the still bouncing Blair.
"Man. And you wondered why we all put down the Energizer Bunny as you?" Henry Brown growled at the smaller man.
"Hey, it was a great party, man. Everyone had a great time." Grinning, glad to be out of his costume, even if it meant another four or five hours of hard, physical labor.
"I just wish we had gotten a little help to clean this place up. I can't believe the mess." Simon grumbled. "I'm too old to stay up twenty-four hours to set up, attend, and then tear down something like this." He glared at Rhonda. "Didn't you arrange for anyone else to help with this?"
"I thought I did. I had Juvee, Vice and Homicide slated to do the clean up. No one seems to have stuck around. They are not going to like hearing from me on Monday morning."
"Well, I'm here to help." Dan Wolf came back into the arena. "I just needed to get changed. You should see the mess they left in the locker room." Which news elicited groans from all.
"Well, bemoaning our fate isn't going to get the work done." Joel said and turned to pick up a trash bag and start picking up the trash, pulling down decorations and filling up bag after bag. Mable worked with him, holding open the trash bags for him, and then tying them closed and taking them to the exit to take out later.
The party had ended at ten p.m. They were still cleaning up at six in the morning. As the sun finally came up, they still had a great deal of work to do. They were supposed to have been out by two a.m., but since the help Rhonda had counted on had failed to appear, it was taking a lot longer. At six, the work crew from the arena came in, expecting to just be able to set the arena back up as usual. They took one look at the exhausted group and silently pitched in, taking the bags of trash out, helping remove the plywood that had been the haunted house, and taking the brooms from the exhausted men and women and finishing up themselves. Rhonda thanked them on behalf of her crew. The head of maintenance just smiled and told her that it was no problem. They had actually expected to have to come in and do all the cleaning up after them, that was how it usually worked. They were grateful that they had gotten so much done.
When the arena was finally ready for the maintenance people to do their normal setup, the men and women of Major Crime dragged their tired bodies out to their cars.
"Thanks, guys. For staying, even though it wasn't your job."
"Well, we put it up, so I guess it only makes sense for us to take it back down, I suppose." Simon said, wearily. "I hope to see you all tomorrow. I'll see to it that the Chief hears about this. Along with the Mayor, I think." He placed one arm around his son, looking almost as though he were leaning on the teen-ager for support.
"Well, I, for one, plan to sleep until tomorrow morning. How about we turn off the ringer on the phone, Jim?" Blair said, yawning.
"Uh-huh." Jim was too tired to more than grunt his answers.
"Maybe you two should call a cab?" Mable suggested, seeing how exhausted everyone was, "Maybe we should all call cabs. I don't think any one of us is safe enough to drive home."
They all looked at each other for a few moments, thinking about it. Jim pulled his cell phone out, offering it to anyone who still had enough energy to still be able to make the call.
Daryl glanced around at the adults, realizing they were all barely able to stay on their feet. He reached out and took Jim's cell phone, dialed information, got the number and arranged for cabs to pick them up.
"What about you, Mable? Your chair won't fit in a cab." The concerned teen asked.
"I'll carry her. We have a push chair at home. I'll just load her chair in the van and lock it all up. We'll be fine, Daryl. Thanks." Smiling tiredly.
They divided up into two cabs. Simon, Daryl, Megan and the Taggarts took one cab, as they lived in the same part of town. Jim, Blair, Rafe, and Brown took the second, as they lived close enough to each other to make it a logical choice, as the cab could make a nice circular route to drop them all off. Dan opted to drive himself and Rhonda, after all.
Jim and Blair dragged themselves in exhausted silence to the elevator. Both men leaned against the walls, unable to stand any longer without support. When the elevator door opened, they shuffled their weary way to the door to the apartment, where Blair leaned against the wall while Jim took out his keys and opened the door. Jim halfheartedly tossed his keys toward the basket; the fact that he missed, an indication of his exhausted state. The fact that Blair made no comment, indeed didn't even notice, was mute testimony to his own depleted condition. Wordlessly, each man shuffled his way to his bed. Jim groaning at each step up the stairs to his. It was nearly ten in the morning, twenty eight hours since either man had been off their feet for more than a few minutes.
Fortunately for Simon, Daryl had awakened Sunday evening, and after calling on his mother to demand her assistance, took his dad's keys and went to get his car. Then, after discussing it with his mom, they went to Jim and Blair's loft where Daryl slipped in and picked up Jim's keys without waking anyone and delivered Jim's truck. After which, he put the keys back in the basket where he knew they belonged. He had his mother drive him to the Taggart's, where Mable had just gotten up. She gratefully accepted his offer to take her to her van, since he wouldn't be able to drive it with the hand controls.
"Thank you, Ms. Banks, for this." Mable said softly, once Daryl had helped her into the car. "It's greatly appreciated. I was trying to figure out how I was going to get my van back. Poor Joel's just exhausted."
"Oh, it's no trouble, Mrs. Taggart." Joan replied. Too embarrassed to admit that it was all her son's idea, in fact, he'd insisted. "You look tired still, yourself." She added, trying to make small talk to fill the silence.
"Oh, a bit. But in my case, it's more a case of a sore behind than the physical exhaustion the guys are all suffering. She shifted so she could look at Daryl in the back seat. "How about you, Daryl? Aren't you still tired?"
"Not really tired, Mrs. Taggart. Just a little sore from all the exercise, I guess. My dad's still out like a burnt out light bulb, though. I doubt the second coming would even wake him up." Smiling at her.
Mable laughed. "Oh, my, yes. I imagine all of the boys are feeling that way. Even Blair, bless his heart. He was really the life of the party for those little ones. You all did a marvelous job yesterday. It was a wonderful party."
"Thank you, Ma'am." Daryl smiled in response to the pride in the older lady's voice. Almost wiggling in pleasure at being included with the men.
Joan gave her son a puzzled look. Where was the surly, recalcitrant boy who lived with her? Why was he so happy when with his father? It certainly wasn't because Simon spoiled the boy. Quite the opposite. She knew for a fact that Simon was far stricter with their son than she was. She shook her head in wonder, not understanding that the difference was more due to his being included with the adult's activities than anything else.
When they got to the arena, Daryl took Mable's keys and went to get her chair. He had a little trouble figuring out the controls and getting it to respond properly, either over steering or under steering, and his forward motion was even more jerking than his first lesson on a stick shift. Finally, however, he got the chair over by his mom's car where Mable was waiting with the door open.
"He's a fine young man, Ms. Banks." Mable informed the younger woman, as she watched Daryl wrestle with the workings of her chair and the lift.
"Thank you." She watched her son for a moment, hardly recognizing him. "Tell me, why is he so different with you than at home?" Honestly puzzled.
Mable chuckled. "Oh, dear. I suppose it's because we treat him more like an adult than you do. It's taken Simon a long time to break the 'overprotective daddy' habit. He wants what's best for Daryl, and has discovered that his son is old enough to make a lot of decisions on his own, with very little input from him. It's hard to let them go. I still miss my babies, but when they come home, it's just wonderful how we can talk about so many things, adult things. I've spent much of my life preparing my babies to fly from the nest. I'm proud to say that they've more than lived up to my desires and expectations for them. Simon's learning to see his son as the man he's becoming, and he's liking what he sees. Of course, Blair's input has been invaluable toward that end. Showing him that he doesn't have to fit anyone else's mold and still fit in. You're doing a fine job with him. Just remember that in just another year or two he'll be heading out on his own to face the world. Don't become a clinging vine. Go out, live your own life. Just be there to give him any support he may need along the way."
"You must have perfect children." Joan said. She saw the flash of old pain cross the older woman's face.
"No. Not all of them. My youngest died several years ago. He'd gotten into drugs. Nothing we did helped."
"I'm sorry. May I ask what happened?" Mable was a bit surprised. Joan having to ask told her how far apart Joan and Simon had been, long before the divorce.
"He was driving one night, five and a half years ago. He lost control on a curve and we hit a tree. He was killed instantly and I was badly injured. I was extremely fortunate that Jim Ellison was out for a drive that night. He saw the wreck and stopped. He's the reason I'm alive." Joan stared at her in silence, her brow furrowed.
"I'm sorry." Not knowing what else to say.
"It's all right. It was a long time ago. I still miss him, but realize that his decisions were his own. He was eighteen and sure he knew everything. He never figured out that we were only trying to help him. You're very lucky. Daryl's an exceptional young man. He has the ability to do so much with his life. All you need to do is give him the freedom to try his wings, but be ready to catch him if he falters. That's the best any of us can do. You set his path when he was small, now he's just filling out and maturing."
"Thank you. I guess I do tend to smother him a bit. I'll try to loosen up a little." Smiling tightly, unsure whether she would be able to let go enough.
"All you can do is try. Talking about things helps a lot. I know he talks to Blair a lot about stuff that bothers him, questions he's too embarrassed to ask his parents. Blair's still so childlike himself that he can really reach your young man. Good thing he's an excellent influence, teaching being a major part of his personality."
"Yes, I know. At first I thought Simon was crazy, asking that hippie to tutor our son. But I was wrong. Daryl's grades prove it. So does his attitude change."
"Tell Blair that, some time. Or tell Simon. They need positive strokes just as much as everybody else, sometimes more." Joan didn't answer, for at that moment, Daryl arrived.
Daryl helped Mable shift to her chair, then waited and watched to make sure she got safely into her van and started on her way. Since he didn't have access to either Brown's or Rafe's homes, not even knowing where they lived, to tell the truth and also not having any access to Megan's car, he had his mother return him to his Dad's in order to return his Dad's keys, write him a note itemizing his actions, and pick up his things from the weekend before rejoining his mother for the ride home. He really was quite tired, and it was now almost nine p.m. and he could hardly keep his eyes open for the short trip home. He dragged in behind his mother, listlessly ate a hastily heated burrito and dragged himself off to bed, hoping to regain his lost energy in time for school in the morning.
They all did, indeed, sleep through until their alarms awoke them Monday morning. Brian Rafe spent almost an hour in his shower, the water beating down on his still weary body, trying desperately to wake up. He only had the energy to make coffee for his breakfast.
Henry Brown had overslept his alarm, having hit the snooze button about five too many times. He had to rush so much, that he didn't even get any coffee.
Mable let Joel sleep as late as possible, calling Megan, Rafe and Brown to let them know that Joel would be picking them up on their way to work to go and pick up their cars. Joel was treated to a wonderful breakfast by his wife and even managed to leave a bit early to go and pick up his passengers. Megan was grateful that Mable had called, as she had inadvertently turned off the alarm and gone back to sleep. She barely had time to get ready before the knock came at her door with her ride.
Jim was up with the first ring of the alarm. He stretched and yawned until his jaws popped. He rolled out of bed, almost recovered from the party. He made his way downstairs and started the coffee brewing, then took his shower. He poured himself a cup of 'starter fluid' and returned to his bedroom to dress. Letting his partner sleep a little longer, not to mention allowing the hot water heater to recharge.
"Come on, Chief. Time to get up. You've got half an hour." Jim tugged on the covers concealing the lump that was Sandburg. "Come on, Blair. You need to give me a ride to my truck, remember?"
"Mmmphhh" The lump mumbled incoherently and burrowed deeper beneath the covers.
"You don't want me to dump you out, do you?" Too tired still to actually do so.
"'M 'wake." As the tangled mop of hair poked out from beneath the blankets.
"Here." Jim set a steaming cup of fresh coffee on Blair's bedside table.
"Oh, man. Thanks." Blair sat up, groping for the cup. Just holding it for a minute while the steam wafted up, tickling his nose with it's promise of full consciousness. Sniffing appreciatively at the wonderful smell, Blair took his first sip. "Oh, this is good. Thanks, Jim."
"You're welcome. We need to get going, though. Remember, I still need to get my truck from the arena."
"Yeah. I know." Blair took a couple of more sips and then set his cup down and stood up, leaving his covers in a messy heap on his bed. He shuffled toward the bathroom, where a nice, hot, steamy shower awaited him to fully return him to consciousness.
They were running too late to fix breakfast, by now, not if they were going to be able to pick up Jim's truck and still get to the station on time. As they headed out the door, Jim frowned. He knew for a fact that he had missed the basket when they'd come in on Sunday morning. He glanced at Blair, who was oblivious to the oddity. Shrugging, Jim slipped on his jacket and followed his roommate out.
"Jim? I thought we had to go get your truck?" Blair was confused. Jim's truck was right in its usual parking space.
"I don't know, Chief. You suppose Simon brought it back? He's the only one with a key." Which would explain how his keys had gotten moved.
"Must have. Why didn't he leave a note?"
"Let's ask him. Well, since we don't have to go out to the arena, what say we stop for breakfast? The bakery?"
"Sure. Why don't we pick up enough for everyone? I'm willing to bet that at least some of them will have slept late enough to have missed breakfast." Blair agreed.
"Sounds good to me. Muffins and bagels?"
One of the few, the very few, advantages of being a salaried employee, was the ability to come in late on occasion without having to take leave. Of course it was also offset by the myriad times he had to work extra hours without overtime pay, but this morning, he didn't care. He took his time, drinking coffee, watching the morning news (checking to see how crime had done over the weekend), He was sitting there, sipping his third cup, when the 'story of the weekend' came on.
"The 'Safety for Children' Halloween party held Saturday at the Jag's arena was a smashing success. Nearly three hundred children, ranging in age from three to eighteen, were entertained in a safe, secure environment. The local Police Athletic League was responsible for the idea, but much of the credit goes to the people from Major Crime. Office Assistant Rhonda Thompson was the lady in charge of the evening's festivities." They switched from the anchor shot to film from Saturday. It showed them building the haunted house, the horseplay as they painted the mockup. Then they showed Rhonda shouting out instructions as they hung decorations and the whole lot of them flinging streamers at her, engulfing her in orange and black paper ribbons. "Obviously, they were having a good time even getting ready for the evening." One of the anchors said with a laugh. Simon groaned, shaking his head and wondering why he hadn't seen the television news crew at the arena. They then changed to a tape of the children, their arrivals, the games, the refreshments. The cameras focused on Jim and Blair entertaining the little ones. Simon groaned again. Hoping that his men hadn't seen this.
"Detective James Ellison and his partner Blair Sandburg, as Superman and the Energizer Bunny, were a real hit with the smallest partygoers, as was Detective Megan Connor as WonderWoman, here on an exchange program from Australia." First, they showed Jim and Megan playing their superhero roles, obviously teasing each other as well as the children. Then they showed Jim scooping up a crying child and the child's tears changing to shouts of glee as the big man tossed him carefully up and caught him again. Jim's pleased smile indicating that he was having just as much fun as the children were. Blair was going around beating his drum, just as though he really was the advertising invention. "Detective Sandburg lived up to his costume, he just kept going, and going, and going...If I had half his energy, I could win a marathon." The male anchor added with a laugh. Simon shook his head.
"The other members of Major Crime played their parts, as well. Captain Simon Banks and his son played their roles of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza to the hilt." Showing a clip of Simon calling for his lance so he could do battle with a monster. Seeing himself made him choke in embarrassment. He really hoped that no one who knew him was watching this.
"One of the best acts of the evening was the Laurel and Hardy act as performed by Detectives Brian Rafe and Henry Brown." The tape showed a classic bit from the past, Rafe's Stan Laurel was priceless, the mock tears, the stereotypical scratching of his head, and Brown's Oliver Hardy was a fine tribute to the original, as well.
"Probably the most poignant costumes were Cinderella and her Prince Charming. And charming they were, as portrayed by Detective Joel Taggart and his wife, Mable." Simon sat enthralled as they showed Mable Taggart telling her version of Cinderella, all the smallest children gathered around, watching with their mouths hanging open, mesmerized. Simon had to smile at that one. Now that he hoped everyone in town saw.
"The crime statistics for Saturday night were far below what anyone imagined they could be. There were no murders, and not one single child was injured. Truly a miracle." The female anchor stated. "And, to top it all off, not only did our men and women from Major Crime set up the entire venue, they took it back down, as well." Simon's eyes narrowed, suddenly realizing just who had set this up. Well, Rhonda had some serious explaining to do, when he next saw her, that was for damn sure.
"In all, the total cost for the party was just under five thousand dollars. A small price tag for the safety of our children, thanks to some very caring police officers and their families." The final shot was of them all dragging their tired bodies out of the arena and climbing into the cabs to go home. Then came the interview with Rhonda.
"Ms. Thompson, how do you think this idea worked out?"
"Well," An obviously weary Rhonda began, "I think it worked pretty well. I was a little disappointed that the groups who promised to help with the cleanup ducked out early, leaving it to the same great bunch of folks who put up all the decorations and built the haunted house to tear it back down again. If it weren't for the maintenance crew the Jags sent in to set the arena back up for this afternoon's practice pitching in and helping, we'd still be working in there. It was a lot of work, and we filled four dumpsters with trash."
"Who was supposed to help with the cleanup?" The reporter asked, sensing a possible angle.
"Oh, just some of the other folks from the department." Wise enough to not point any fingers in specific directions.
"How did you become the driving force behind this whole thing, Ms. Thompson?" Still looking for an angle
Rhonda laughed. "I was unfortunate enough to have been out of town on a family emergency when this all started, they held the vote while I was unavailable to defend myself, and I was voted in charge. Luckily, the people I work with were willing to pitch in, even Mrs. Taggart, Detective Joel Taggart's wife helped. In fact, she was the biggest help of all. She's the one who talked to Captain Banks, who talked to the management of the Jags, who donated the use of the arena. For which we're all tremendously grateful. There isn't another place in town that could have held the number of people the arena can." She declared, knowing that the free publicity for the Jags was money in the bank if they ever decided to do this again.
"Who thought up all those marvelous costumes?"
"Well, Mable suggested I hand out ballots to the guys and tell them to let me know what costume best suggested their coworkers. You saw the results."
"Wait a minute, one of them was Superman, and another was WonderWoman. Explain this."
Rhonda laughed. Really beginning to feel punchy from too many hours on her feet and too much work without enough sleep. "Well, Jim was last year's Policeman of the year. He's got the best arrest and conviction rate in the entire state. He's got a knack for solving the toughest crimes in a remarkably short time. Megan is a relative newcomer, being here on an exchange program from Sydney, Australia. There were three suggestions for her costume, so I guess that at least half of the guys think of her that way. There were two votes for Rafe and Brown being Laurel and Hardy, and you have to admit that they pulled it off brilliantly. I was the deciding vote for the Taggarts and Captain Banks and his son."
"But, what about the Energizer Bunny?" Pressing.
"Blair? You'd have to know him to understand. That young man can outlast every one of the others. He's amazing. He really does just keep going and going and going..." She was nearly ready to collapse, when a dark blue sedan pulled up beside them. Dan Wolf climbed from behind the wheel and joined Rhonda before the cameras.
"And what about your costumes?"
"Well, Mable, again, I'm afraid. She suggested that since I was in charge, I should be the Queen of Hearts and shout 'Off with their heads!' at inopportune moments." Smiling up at her escort. "Dan Wolf, here, was kind enough to volunteer to escort me. Not to mention helping with the cleanup."
"Mr. Wolf is...?"
"Oh, he's our Coroner." Rhonda explained, leaning slightly against the strong man's side, needing some support. He slid an arm around her and smiled for the camera.
"I checked with my office. I don't have a single new case, this morning. Do you know what a rarity that is?" He announced. "This party was great, it kept a lot of kids off the streets where they could have been hurt, or worse. I think that it would be a great idea to make this an annual event. Although, I think the rest of the civic organizations should get involved, too."
Finally, they switched back to the newsroom, where the anchors finished the report. "Well, this was certainly a great event. I think Dr. Wolf has an excellent idea, in that the entire city should become involved with this event in future years." The female anchor stated.
"I think that the folks from Major Crime have overwhelmingly demonstrated what can be done with just a little money and some willing volunteers who aren't afraid of some hard work." The male anchor agreed as they broke for a commercial.
When Simon arrived at the station, it was obvious that a lot of people had seen the news report. The fact that they had shown it apparently on Sunday night as well as Monday morning, and that it was at least fifteen minutes long, was a tribute to how quiet a news weekend it had been. When uniformed officers smirked at him, remembering his costume, he would give them his best imitation of a smiling shark; resulting in quickly downcast eyes from those who were supposed to have helped with the cleanup. He was surprised to recognize just how many people Rhonda had had tagged for that particular chore. Nearly all the uniforms he saw, and most of the detectives from other units, like the guys from Vice and Homicide.
"Good morning, people." He called cheerily, as he walked in.
"Hey, Captain. Thanks for getting Jim's truck ." Blair answered, holding up a bakery box filled with muffins and bagels. The rest of the men gave out basically grunts of acknowledgment. They were all gathered around Jim's desk, glaring over at...Rhonda.
Uh-oh. Simon thought. Time for some damage control. "Well, you need to thank Daryl for that. He got Joan to take him out so he could bring my car, Jim's truck, and take Mable to pick up her van. He'd have done the same for Megan, Brown and Rafe, but didn't know where they live. Besides which, he wouldn't have been able to wake them up." Smiling at the still dragging woman and men.
Turning to the current problem, "Rhonda, may I see you in my office, please?" She moved slowly, the prisoner headed for execution. Once inside with the door closed, Simon motioned her to sit.
"I saw the news this morning. Where did they get all that film?"
"Sorry. It was supposed to be a favor, but I guess when they saw it, they decided to turn it into a story. It wasn't supposed to be aired without everyone's permission." She tried to explain, just as the phone rang. Holding up an 'hold that thought' finger, he answered his phone.
"Banks." Voice modulated low in response to his still weary body. "Yes, Mr. Mayor?" Surprised. He listened. His eyes narrowed in annoyance. He listened some more, his expression softening. Finally, a smile broke across his face. "Yes, Sir. I'll tell them. Thank you, Sir." Hanging up the phone. He looked at Rhonda. "They showed it to the mayor, first. He liked it so much that he gave his permission for them to show it. You're off the hook." They both turned to look out the window at the unhappy detectives, who had obviously been teased unmercifully by any and all cops who had seen the news story. "Well, time to break the news..." He stood, ushering Rhonda from his office.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Don't blame Rhonda for that news story. It was the mayor himself who gave the station the go-ahead on airing it. He also found out how we ended up getting stuck doing the cleanup. He's decided that we are, in future, exempt from any and all such taskings. All due to that little piece on the news."
"Little piece?" Brown asked. "I heard it runs about twenty minutes. It's got all of us making fools of ourselves." His voice and body language indicating his displeasure.
"I watched it this morning. Yeah, it is about twenty minutes long. Do you have any idea about how unusual that is? How slow and quiet a news day it was for them to spend that much time on one little party? Do you have any conception of the idea that there was not one single murder on Saturday? That there was not one single child injured? Can you comprehend what a miracle that is?" He watched his people digesting his words, watched as the true realization of what they had accomplished occurred to them. Joel found his voice first.
"But, there were only about three hundred kids there. There are a lot more than that in the city."
"Yeah, but all the kids we had were what they've come to euphemistically call 'disadvantaged'. We had groups from five separate gangs, here. No trouble. We had a couple of hundred kids from welfare homes, kids who traditionally get in trouble or hurt on Halloween." Rhonda explained. "That was the whole purpose of this party, to show the kids a good time, and allow them to see the police as something other than the enemy. There was not one, single fight among the gangs. Even with colors flying, they all had a good time. No one wanted to start anything, knowing that most of the adults were cops. We made a lot of friends Saturday. You guys were wonderful. You played with the kids, you entertained people. You became the characters you were dressed up as. It was terrific. You were terrific. All of you. Personally, I'm proud of all of you." Rhonda finished.
"So's the mayor." Simon added. "I guess we did more for community relations on Saturday than all the rhetoric and wrangling in the city council has done in the past decade. Not one, single child was injured this weekend. Not one, single murder, as well. When is the last time you can remember that happening?"
None of them could. Sure, days without a murder, but an entire weekend without a single injured at-risk child? The odds were astronomical and they all knew it.
"That doesn't help with the snide comments from the rest of the department." Blair muttered.
"Oh, but it will." Simon smiled. "The mayor has a few ideas to get the point across about living up to promises. If anyone gives you any lip, just ask 'and where were you?' If they have any kind of plausible answer, just give them a 'yeah, sure you were' look. Look at it this way, there are a lot of scut jobs out there that will be tasked to units other than Major Crime, in the future."
"Yeah." Blair agreed, sarcasm dripping in his voice, "And any time he wants to make a good impression or bolster up his sagging polls, he'll find something for us to make him look good on."
"But he does that all ready." Joel replied. "I can see this working in our favor. I guess I can live with a little teasing for a few days."
They all exchanged looks, remembering how much fun they'd actually had, getting a warm feeling at having been able to take the responsibility for the safety of the children. Not really the responsibility, but the credit for having kept them safe, for that one night, at least, one night of safety that had lasted through a second day. Yeah, their looks at one another said. We can survive a little heckling in exchange for uninjured children. It was a very small price to pay for the rewards; all their memories of happy, safe kids. A very small price to pay.
"I got a delivery for 'Superman'?" a delivery person said from the doorway. All eyes turned to Ellison. Sighing, he waved the young woman over. She had a large envelope. Glancing curiously at it, he signed for the delivery. Waiting until the stranger had gone, he slit open the flap. He pulled out the contents and stared. He raised his eyes to his colleagues, holding the letter that was enclosed.
"This is unreal." Blair said, reading the message over Jim's shoulder.
"What is it?" The rest of them chorused.
"It's a box." Jim said, in awe.
"What kind of box?" Rafe asked, curious.
Simon took the package from Jim's limp fingers and read it. "Oh, my Lord."
"What? What is it?" the others asked in frustration.
"It really is a box." He looked closer at the details. "It's a ten-year box." Lifting his eyes to his men.
"What on earth are you going on about?" Megan said, almost whining in her confusion.
Brown and Rafe snatched the package from Simon's hands and, with Joel looking over their shoulders, read the note as well.
"Oh, my God." Joel breathed, as he realized the meaning of the gift.
"Will somebody please let me in on what's so amazing about a box?" Megan cried. The men all turned to her with blank expressions on their faces.
Blair finally found the voice to speak. "It..It's a ten-year box for up to twenty people for every single event at the Jags Arena. Do you have any idea of how much that would cost? They're giving it to us. All of us. Wow."
They all looked at one another in shock. Then Simon started to smile. The smile widened and he started to chuckle. Soon, he was laughing and gasping for air.
"Simon? Sir?" Jim asked, worried.
"It...it's OK, Jim. Oh, man."
"What's so funny, Simon?" Joel asked, concerned.
"Well, the next person who decides to tease any of us about our costumes or getting stuck with all the cleanup? We can tell them about the box. Our very nice reward for helping out."
Slowly, the shock wore off and the humor of the situation seeped in to their still tired brains. The smiles were slow in coming, but soon they were all grinning and chuckling over the whole situation.
"Hey, if it ain't Superman and the Energizer Bunny. Where's your costumes, boys?"
Jim turned slowly toward the speaker, a Sergeant from Vice. One he'd known from when he'd been working the streets. He smiled. "Oh, I suppose they're still down at the arena, maybe in box 2A." Smiling at the Vice cop's confusion. "Oh, didn't you hear? The Jags gave us a 20 man box for the next ten years. For all events. Just for playing with a bunch of kids on Halloween. Oh, and sticking around to clean up, afterwards." Slapping his partner on the back and exchanging smug, self-satisfied smiles, "C'mon, Chief. Let's go catch some bad guys." And smirked at the other officers who had overheard the exchange as they walked out the door. Leaving behind woe and consternation from those who were supposed to have helped, but hadn't.
The End
Well, that seems like a good place to stop. I like leaving the ungodly simmering in their own stew. Having been stuck more than once in a situation where those who were supposed to help backed out at the last instant.