Finally! Part 1 of My Fic Challenge ...
Someone Down the Hall is Snickering
(And yes, that was shamelessly ripped from a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon. My brain is practically non-functional at this hour.)
Rating: G
Summary: John and Nathan get into a bit of mischief as Halloween approaches and the rest of the time pays the price.
There was a dead chicken hanging from the doorknob with a red rose around its throat. Sam’s automatic, paranoid response was that Jack was somehow responsible. Then she took a much closer look and realized three things simultaneously-- that the dead chicken was made of rubber, the rose was crafted out of red paper, and that someone was snickering down the hall.
Sam plucked the rubber chicken from the door knob. A note was attached to the paper flower around its neck. In neat block letters, it read: “Trick or treat, smell my feet.”
Raising an eyebrow, Sam deposited her briefcase in her office and headed for the Command Center. George was settled in his chair in front of the computer, reading email, a bagel and coffee sitting at his elbow. Next to the computer was a rubber chicken just like Sam’s, this one wearing a rainbow striped bow tie.
“You, too?” George asked, grinning.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret coming in to work today?”
“I already do,” Grace snarled, stalking down the steps. “Where are they?”
“Who?” Sam asked at the same moment George said, “Hiding around the corner.”
Sam cast a confused look at George as Grace took off like a shot. “Did I miss something?”
“They do this every year,” Grace replied, leaning around the corner only to see two pairs of feet vanishing around the next bend. “John!” she yelled. “Unless you want me to strangle you with a rubber chicken, you’d better tell me where you put it!”
“Put what?” George asked, smirking.
“My espresso beans!” Grace fumed. “I went to grind a cup and that little rat had replaced my whole jar of espresso beans with candy corn!”
George tried unsuccessfully to smother a giggle.
“Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?” Grace snapped. She sank down into the chair next to George and crossed her arms across her chest, dangerously close to sulking. “I’m not human till I’ve had a strong cup of coffee.”
“No kidding,” George mumbled, and received a punch to the arm for his trouble.
Sam shook her head and set the rubber chicken down on the table. “So this is John and Nathan’s doing?”
“It’s an old joke,” George replied. “Started in APD and ended up here. Something they do every Halloween.”
“Halloween’s tomorrow,” Sam said. “Why all the tricking?”
“You haven’t heard of Mischief Night?” came John’s voice. He and Nathan strolled into the room, grinning evilly. “I see you found Henrietta.”
“Henrietta?” Sam asked, indicating the rubber chicken. “Charming. And no, I’ve never heard of Mischief Night.”
“The day before Halloween when little pranksters roam the streets,” Nathan reported. “Big fun.”
“It won’t be so fun when I get through with you two,” Grace threatened, trying to hide a smile. “Where’s my espresso?”
“Grace,” John said in a tone of mock shock. “What is this? We leave you candy to show our undying affection and you threaten us with bodily harm?”
“You know I need my coffee, el-jerko. Give it back and you won’t need to have candy corn surgically removed from your nasal cavity.”
Cackling, John removed a bag of espresso beans from his inner jacket pocket and passed it over to Grace, who took it and fairly sprinted up the stairs and toward the one cup coffee maker in her office.
John and Nathan settled in their respective chairs. “You should see what we did to Bailey.”
Sam laughed. “If it has to do with his cigars or his scotch I’d start looking for a new job.”
“Not quite.” John leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “You notice that it’s raining outside?” Sam nodded. “And you notice that Bailey always wears that stupid hat of his when it’s raining? The one that makes him look like the Lone Ranger?”
“What did you do to it?” George asked, interested.
“Let’s just say we made a few … alterations,” Nathan said.
Grace came back down the stairs with a cup of espresso and the offending jar of candy corn just as Bailey entered the Command Center carrying his briefcase, trench coat, and his black, wide brimmed hat.
“Morning,” he said to everyone. His gaze fell on the rubber chickens beside Sam and George and he grinned. “Newly initiated, I see.”
“They got off easy,” Grace complained, offering the jar to Bailey. He laughed and took a handful, then passed it to Sam.
“No way,” she replied. “Candy corn is so unappealing.” She reached for one of the chocolate croissants sitting on a tray in the middle of the table. “Especially when there‘s chocolate around.”
Bailey’s cell phone rang as they were getting under way. He took notes for several minutes, then hung up.
“We’ve been called in to assist in a double homicide in Salem, Massachusetts,” he said. “Copy cat killing.”
Sam mentally ran through their current cases. There weren’t any serial killers working in the North East. She said so to Bailey.
“So copy cat to what?” Grace asked, munching on a handful of candy corn.
“A series of tongue in cheek horror movies came out about six years ago, all under the name “Slice and Dice.” Big hit with the teen crowd.”
“Oh, yeah. I saw those,” George said. “The killer dressed in some silly Halloween costume, right?”
“Hooded robe, sheer black mesh mask-- the kind you can see out of but no one can see in,” John said. “Yeah, I remember that.”
“The double homicide in Salem is a copy cat of one of the murders committed in the movie,” Bailey. “The only difference is that the victims are wearing the costumes. Details on the plane. Let’s get moving.”
He shrugged on his coat, picked up his briefcase, and settled his hat on his head. Sam, Grace, and George all had to stifle their laughter. Written in pink chalk across the back of Bailey’s hat were the words, “Herr Lord and Master.”
(And yes, that was shamelessly ripped from a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon. My brain is practically non-functional at this hour.)
Rating: G
Summary: John and Nathan get into a bit of mischief as Halloween approaches and the rest of the time pays the price.
There was a dead chicken hanging from the doorknob with a red rose around its throat. Sam’s automatic, paranoid response was that Jack was somehow responsible. Then she took a much closer look and realized three things simultaneously-- that the dead chicken was made of rubber, the rose was crafted out of red paper, and that someone was snickering down the hall.
Sam plucked the rubber chicken from the door knob. A note was attached to the paper flower around its neck. In neat block letters, it read: “Trick or treat, smell my feet.”
Raising an eyebrow, Sam deposited her briefcase in her office and headed for the Command Center. George was settled in his chair in front of the computer, reading email, a bagel and coffee sitting at his elbow. Next to the computer was a rubber chicken just like Sam’s, this one wearing a rainbow striped bow tie.
“You, too?” George asked, grinning.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret coming in to work today?”
“I already do,” Grace snarled, stalking down the steps. “Where are they?”
“Who?” Sam asked at the same moment George said, “Hiding around the corner.”
Sam cast a confused look at George as Grace took off like a shot. “Did I miss something?”
“They do this every year,” Grace replied, leaning around the corner only to see two pairs of feet vanishing around the next bend. “John!” she yelled. “Unless you want me to strangle you with a rubber chicken, you’d better tell me where you put it!”
“Put what?” George asked, smirking.
“My espresso beans!” Grace fumed. “I went to grind a cup and that little rat had replaced my whole jar of espresso beans with candy corn!”
George tried unsuccessfully to smother a giggle.
“Oh, you think it’s funny, huh?” Grace snapped. She sank down into the chair next to George and crossed her arms across her chest, dangerously close to sulking. “I’m not human till I’ve had a strong cup of coffee.”
“No kidding,” George mumbled, and received a punch to the arm for his trouble.
Sam shook her head and set the rubber chicken down on the table. “So this is John and Nathan’s doing?”
“It’s an old joke,” George replied. “Started in APD and ended up here. Something they do every Halloween.”
“Halloween’s tomorrow,” Sam said. “Why all the tricking?”
“You haven’t heard of Mischief Night?” came John’s voice. He and Nathan strolled into the room, grinning evilly. “I see you found Henrietta.”
“Henrietta?” Sam asked, indicating the rubber chicken. “Charming. And no, I’ve never heard of Mischief Night.”
“The day before Halloween when little pranksters roam the streets,” Nathan reported. “Big fun.”
“It won’t be so fun when I get through with you two,” Grace threatened, trying to hide a smile. “Where’s my espresso?”
“Grace,” John said in a tone of mock shock. “What is this? We leave you candy to show our undying affection and you threaten us with bodily harm?”
“You know I need my coffee, el-jerko. Give it back and you won’t need to have candy corn surgically removed from your nasal cavity.”
Cackling, John removed a bag of espresso beans from his inner jacket pocket and passed it over to Grace, who took it and fairly sprinted up the stairs and toward the one cup coffee maker in her office.
John and Nathan settled in their respective chairs. “You should see what we did to Bailey.”
Sam laughed. “If it has to do with his cigars or his scotch I’d start looking for a new job.”
“Not quite.” John leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “You notice that it’s raining outside?” Sam nodded. “And you notice that Bailey always wears that stupid hat of his when it’s raining? The one that makes him look like the Lone Ranger?”
“What did you do to it?” George asked, interested.
“Let’s just say we made a few … alterations,” Nathan said.
Grace came back down the stairs with a cup of espresso and the offending jar of candy corn just as Bailey entered the Command Center carrying his briefcase, trench coat, and his black, wide brimmed hat.
“Morning,” he said to everyone. His gaze fell on the rubber chickens beside Sam and George and he grinned. “Newly initiated, I see.”
“They got off easy,” Grace complained, offering the jar to Bailey. He laughed and took a handful, then passed it to Sam.
“No way,” she replied. “Candy corn is so unappealing.” She reached for one of the chocolate croissants sitting on a tray in the middle of the table. “Especially when there‘s chocolate around.”
Bailey’s cell phone rang as they were getting under way. He took notes for several minutes, then hung up.
“We’ve been called in to assist in a double homicide in Salem, Massachusetts,” he said. “Copy cat killing.”
Sam mentally ran through their current cases. There weren’t any serial killers working in the North East. She said so to Bailey.
“So copy cat to what?” Grace asked, munching on a handful of candy corn.
“A series of tongue in cheek horror movies came out about six years ago, all under the name “Slice and Dice.” Big hit with the teen crowd.”
“Oh, yeah. I saw those,” George said. “The killer dressed in some silly Halloween costume, right?”
“Hooded robe, sheer black mesh mask-- the kind you can see out of but no one can see in,” John said. “Yeah, I remember that.”
“The double homicide in Salem is a copy cat of one of the murders committed in the movie,” Bailey. “The only difference is that the victims are wearing the costumes. Details on the plane. Let’s get moving.”
He shrugged on his coat, picked up his briefcase, and settled his hat on his head. Sam, Grace, and George all had to stifle their laughter. Written in pink chalk across the back of Bailey’s hat were the words, “Herr Lord and Master.”