Crossover
OK, technically this gets 2 of the 4, I think! I may be taking a few liberties with canon, I'm not sure. Oh well, at least its 4 parts and still 400 words!
Pre-Mothership, SVU, and TBJ.
The call was late and his hangover was killing him. Flynn covered. Lennie walked the tenement hall, grateful to be out of the din that a drug deal gone murderous had caused.
A kid there, frightened features, Superman jammies. Dark hair and eyes, like his nephew.
“Are they dead?”
Too little for the truth; too big to be lied to.
“Those tough guys won’t hassle you again,” Lennie promised
The kid sniffled, grabbed his knee. Lennie wondered what it would feel like to have a son.
Flynn found him on the steps, letting the kid play with his badge.
**
“You know, I keep telling my uncle he needs to sign on with the DA’s office.”
Hector Salazar chalked a cue. “He’s on disability?”
“Thinking about retiring. But I know him, he won’t be happy just playing golf all day.”
“What’s his name?”
“Lennie Briscoe,” John Munch answered snidely, before Ken could speak. “He’s a legend. Don’t let him near your wife or your girlfriend.”
“Hey, she was your ex-wife when they got it on!” Ken protested.
Salazar chuckled. “Sounds like he’s your favorite uncle.”
“I love the old guy. He’s more like a dad to me.”
**
“You think I’m doing the right thing, Mike?”
Logan grinned over his coffee. “I think you’re doing the only thing. You’d go nuts otherwise.”
Lennie sighed, then tugged at the jacket, still stiff from a belated trip to the cleaners. “My clothes don’t even fit anymore. My shirt collar’s too big. Maybe I should just stay home and watch that TIVO you got me.”
“Lennie---just get your ass over to Hogan Place.”
Briscoe smirked at his old partner and friend. “It’s strange, Mike. I feel like I’m starting all over again, and ending at the same time.”
**
He put the box down, wondered if it was OK to put a few things on the desk. His life could be measured in boxes, moves from one station house to another, one wife to another, one partner to the next.
“Detective Briscoe?”
A young man, strikingly handsome, frozen in the act of holding out a hand.
Time enveloped them, sealed out the world.
“I know you,” the stranger said. “When I was just a kid---you were there, you sat with me.”
Lennie fished through drink-blurred memories. “You liked the badge.”
“And you made me want to be a cop,” Hector said.
Pre-Mothership, SVU, and TBJ.
The call was late and his hangover was killing him. Flynn covered. Lennie walked the tenement hall, grateful to be out of the din that a drug deal gone murderous had caused.
A kid there, frightened features, Superman jammies. Dark hair and eyes, like his nephew.
“Are they dead?”
Too little for the truth; too big to be lied to.
“Those tough guys won’t hassle you again,” Lennie promised
The kid sniffled, grabbed his knee. Lennie wondered what it would feel like to have a son.
Flynn found him on the steps, letting the kid play with his badge.
**
“You know, I keep telling my uncle he needs to sign on with the DA’s office.”
Hector Salazar chalked a cue. “He’s on disability?”
“Thinking about retiring. But I know him, he won’t be happy just playing golf all day.”
“What’s his name?”
“Lennie Briscoe,” John Munch answered snidely, before Ken could speak. “He’s a legend. Don’t let him near your wife or your girlfriend.”
“Hey, she was your ex-wife when they got it on!” Ken protested.
Salazar chuckled. “Sounds like he’s your favorite uncle.”
“I love the old guy. He’s more like a dad to me.”
**
“You think I’m doing the right thing, Mike?”
Logan grinned over his coffee. “I think you’re doing the only thing. You’d go nuts otherwise.”
Lennie sighed, then tugged at the jacket, still stiff from a belated trip to the cleaners. “My clothes don’t even fit anymore. My shirt collar’s too big. Maybe I should just stay home and watch that TIVO you got me.”
“Lennie---just get your ass over to Hogan Place.”
Briscoe smirked at his old partner and friend. “It’s strange, Mike. I feel like I’m starting all over again, and ending at the same time.”
**
He put the box down, wondered if it was OK to put a few things on the desk. His life could be measured in boxes, moves from one station house to another, one wife to another, one partner to the next.
“Detective Briscoe?”
A young man, strikingly handsome, frozen in the act of holding out a hand.
Time enveloped them, sealed out the world.
“I know you,” the stranger said. “When I was just a kid---you were there, you sat with me.”
Lennie fished through drink-blurred memories. “You liked the badge.”
“And you made me want to be a cop,” Hector said.