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McQueen frowns as his partner in anti-crime drops half of his stack of library books into a puddle. Dooley bends over to pick them up, dropping another book in the process.
“You really ought to take better care of books that aren’t yours,” McQueen says. “Doris will probably take away your library card sooner than later if you keep that up.”
“Nah, she wouldn’t,” Dooley replies. “I’ve wined and dined myself out of a defaced book in the past.”
“I didn’t think she was your type.”
“Honestly, Detective, anybody who looks my way for more than two seconds is my type.”
McQueen doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, so he turns his attention to the sky, which, while not ominously purple, is thick with storm clouds.
“Don’t you think it’s bad luck that it’s raining right now?” McQueen asks. “Makes me think something bad’s going to happen when we go inside.”
“The worst thing that could happen is that Doris slams me with a library fine for these wet books. I’m not sure my bank account could take that…”
McQueen wonders how much Dooley thinks books cost. He shakes his head and moves to open the door for his partner.
“You should probably get them inside before they get even wetter from the rain, then. Let’s just get this over with,” McQueen says.
He follows Dooley inside to the circulation desk, where, as expected, they’re greeted with Librarian Doris, looking as youthful and excited about her job as ever.
“Hey, Doris,” Dooley says.
“Hello, Patrick. Detective.”
McQueen gives her a curt nod.
“You boys here about the ghosts?” Doris asks.
“Haha! Good one, Doris. You’re so clever with the jokes; have you ever thought about going into stand-up?” Dooley schmoozes as one of his books deposits a puddle of water on the library floor. “No, we’re just here to return some books in perfect condition.”
McQueen wishes he hadn’t been included in the ‘we.’ Dooley places the books on the desk with a squelch. Doris, unamused by Dooley’s flattery, looks between the books and Dooley, a deadpan expression on her face.
“These books look like you tried to flush them down the toilet. You’re gonna have to pay a fine for these, Patrick. And I wasn’t joking about the ghosts; they’re back.”
“You know, I just realized we have something to go do—” McQueen says.
“A fine?! Aww, man! And I tried so hard to make them look presentable, too. How much is it going to be, Doris?” Dooley whines.
“You’re ruined four books, so let’s just call it… ten dollars.”
“Ten dollars?!” Dooley exclaims. “God, I’ll be paying that back with interest for months…”
“Is that our police scanner going off?” McQueen tries.
“Detective,” Dooley says, suddenly too close and whispering in his ear, “could you loan me some money? Pretty please? I promise I’ll pay it back— wait, Doris, did you say there were ghosts?”
“Mmhm. Seems like you boys didn’t do your jobs right last time. Not that I’m surprised.”
McQueen doesn’t need to stand here and take this sass. He turns to head back to the squad car, but when he sees Dooley staring at him with big, puppy dog eyes, he knows he can’t say no to this investigation. He sighs and turns to address Doris.
“Tell us what’s been happening.”
“Basically the same thing that happened the last time,” Doris says. “Books flying around the library. That you apparently failed to stop.”
“It’s not exactly the same as last time. There’s no purple vortex. We definitely cleared that up last time we were here,” McQueen says, a bit of snark to his voice. Doris has no apparent reaction.
“Is that same kid here again?” Dooley asks.
“No,” Doris says. “We actually banned children from the library after the last incident. Ironically, only the children’s books are the ones flying around.”
“Why do you still have children’s books if no children are allowed to come to the library?” McQueen asks.
“Surprisingly, they still get checked out at a very high rate,” Doris shrugs, gesturing to Dooley. He quickly moves in front of his soggy books with a sheepish grin, but not before McQueen catches a glimpse of Shel Silverstein’s less popular novel, The Taking Tree.
“Right,” McQueen says, choosing to ignore the fact that his coworker’s reading comprehension level was likely on par with a second grader’s. “We’ll check it out.”
Doris doesn’t thank them, so McQueen and Dooley head to the elevator, pressing the button for the floor with the children’s books.
“Hey, Detective. You want this?” Dooley asks. McQueen looks over to see him gesturing to a single shoe left in the corner of the elevator.
“One stinky shoe? I’ll pass. Why do you ask?”
“I dunno, you just like to pick up random stuff sometimes. I figured you might want it for later.”
McQueen weighs his options.
“…Fine. Give it to me.”
He puts it in his pocket.
The elevator doors open for McQueen to be smacked directly in the face with a flying book.
“Ouch.”
“You all right, Detective?” Dooley asks. He peers at the book’s cover. “The Little Mermaid, huh? Did you ever read this?”
“Can’t say I have,” McQueen says, rubbing his nose. “Considering I’m not a child.”
“Yeah, s-same here,” Dooley says. “I didn’t read it either. For the same reason. I did watch the movie, though.”
McQueen watches the book hover for a second, before zipping off to the right.
“We should probably follow it,” McQueen says. Dooley nods in agreement and they head over to the children’s department.
The Little Mermaid is there, just flying around. Also in the room is an actual sentient being, a library patron. They look as if they’re trying to enjoy a children’s novel (Doris was right, those books are popular) but they glance warily at the flying Little Mermaid every few seconds. McQueen can guess that the patron had met a similar fate as himself with regards to the book.
“Hello,” McQueen says. The patron gives a polite nod in response.
“How are you?” he continues. The patron nods again.
“Does that mean good or bad?” Dooley asks. The patron opens their mouth to try to respond, but they’re only able to make a hoarse noise. They gesture to their throat, coughing a couple times.
“Eww,” Dooley says.
“Sorry you’re not doing great. We’ll, uh, come back later,” McQueen says. The patron gives him a grateful smile.
“They seem sick,” Dooley remarks as the pair head back into the elevator. “Do you think they have boronavirus? They should be wearing a mask.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” McQueen says, “And even if I did, I think it would be in poor taste for someone to write a joke like that right now.”
“Write?” Dooley asks, but he looks down at his feet abashedly. “Sorry.”
“Let’s just check out the reading room,” McQueen says. “Maybe we can find something to help them.”
They enter the reading room to be greeted with two flying books this time. By convenience, Raxa is there as well. She always seems to appear when needed to advance a storyline.
“Hey, Raxa,” McQueen says.
“Hi, Detective. Hey, Officer Dooley.”
“Hi Raxa!” Dooley says, excited to see another familiar face.
“Fancy seeing you both here,” Raxa says.
“Likewise,” McQueen asks. “I think you can probably guess what I’m going to ask you.”
“What’s causing all these books to fly around? Yeah, sorry, I can’t tell you this time. I’ve been in here with Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty for the past couple hours and it’s making it really hard to focus on figuring it out. Plus, I lost one of my shoes somewhere and my foot is really cold which is making it even harder to focus.”
“Really? How convenient,” Dooley says, giving McQueen an unnecessary nudge in the ribs and a wink. Completely irrelevant, as McQueen obviously knew that the shoe they had picked up in the elevator was obviously Raxa’s.
“Would this happen to be your shoe?” McQueen asks, digging it out of his pocket and presenting it to Raxa.
“Yes! Thank you so much. That’s one mystery solved,” she says, taking it from McQueen and putting it on. As she does so, the copy of Cinderella stops flying about the room, shakes violently, and then falls lifelessly to the floor.
Dooley walks over and picks it up. He tries throwing it in the air, like he’s releasing a baby bird to fly for the first time, but instead the book falls back on the ground, crumpling one of the pages.
“Looks like it’s done being possessed. Hey, this is Cinderella! It’s about a girl who lost her shoe, just like Raxa lost her shoe! And then when it was returned, she lived happily ever after! You don’t think that the book stopped flying because we resolved the conflict in the story, do you? No, it couldn’t be… unless…?”
McQueen shares a look with Raxa. He thinks he sees a sliver of pity in her eyes.
“Very astute of you, Dooley,” McQueen says. “I suppose our course of action is to try to go around solving the conflicts in each flying book, then.”
“Okay. What’s that one? Sleeping Beauty?” Dooley asks. “What’s the resolution in that one?”
“I think the princess is asleep from poisoning or something, and she wakes up when the prince kisses her. True love’s kiss breaks the spell. So probably, two people need to kiss,” Raxa says.
Everyone in the room looks at each other. They all look away.
“So, uh… do you two want to kiss, maybe?” Dooley asks, gesturing at McQueen and Raxa.
“Both your salaries come from taxpayers. If either of you tries to kiss me I’m suing for sexual harassment,” Raxa says.
“Right,” Dooley says. He turns to McQueen and raises an eyebrow.
“No,” McQueen says immediately. “God, no.”
“Look, Detective, I definitely feel the same way as you. For sure. But, duty calls, right?” Dooley says, and was he blushing? “What other alternative do we have?”
McQueen weighs his options again.
On one hand, he just wants to get this case over with and go home. On the other hand, what if this awakens something within him? Though, he supposes (as much as he doesn’t want to admit it) he trusts Dooley, and he would even go as far as saying he likes the guy. After all, they’d shared a hotel room on Dooley’s birthday when McQueen took him out, he’d met Dooley’s family, they’d both passed out with their shirts off in the back of the squad car together one night after they went to a bar (not pictured). One kiss couldn’t hurt, right?
“Fine,” McQueen says, gesturing for Dooley to come to him. “No tongue.”
“But then where am I supposed to put it?” Dooley asks, looking genuinely confused as he takes the few steps to McQueen’s side.
Not wanting to think about what that question means, McQueen decides to just get it over with, grabbing Dooley’s arm and pressing their mouths together.
Unfortunately, Dooley hadn’t been able to figure out where to put his tongue in time, and when McQueen makes a noise of discontent at how wet this chaste kiss was ending up, he finds Dooley’s tongue inside his mouth. It makes him freeze, a wave of nerves travelling all the way down to his toes.
He feels like he might fall over for a moment, but he finds Dooley’s arms around him, supporting his back. It’s not ideal in the slightest, and McQueen isn’t sure the right word to describe it, but it’s very… Dooley, and not entirely unpleasant.
When they break apart after what seems like several long moments, McQueen finds himself out of breath.
“Oh my god,” he hears Raxa say behind him.
McQueen takes a step back, panting slightly, and wipes his mouth with his hand.
“W-what was that for?” he asks Dooley.
“Hey, if we had to kiss anyway, why not do it right? For the book’s benefit, I mean,” Dooley says.
“Detective, was that your first kiss?” Raxa asks. McQueen turns to look at her, betrayed. He thought she was supposed to be on his side.
“No. What? W-why would you say that?” McQueen asks.
“I dunno, you just seem a little flustered,” Raxa says.
And you wouldn’t be? McQueen thinks.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Raxa. McQueen had a girlfriend when he was in college. Didn’t she murder one of her ex-boyfriends and then try to frame you for the murder, and you went to court for it and then you changed your career path and ended up in homosexually-tense courtroom battles with your childhood friend-slash-rival?”
“You’re thinking of a different game, Dooley,” McQueen says.
“Oh. Well, then I guess I can’t think of any partners that McQueen has had,” Dooley says. “Wait, was that your first kiss?”
“ANYWAY,” McQueen says, “the whole point of that ordeal was to stop that book from flying around. Did it work?”
Much to his chagrin, Sleeping Beauty is still flying around the reading room.
“Actually, I don’t know if that was the end of the book,” Raxa says. “I think Sleeping Beauty and the prince definitely smashed at the end. It was really kinky, BDSM and handcuffs and stuff.”
“REBUTTON YOUR TOP BUTTON, DOOLEY,” McQueen demands, pointedly looking away from him.
“I know for a fact that didn’t happen, Raxa,” he grumbles.
“I just wanted to see how far you two would go,” Raxa shrugs. “Sorry, Detective. Looks like the kiss wasn’t the thing to break the spell on that book.”
McQueen sighs.
“Whatever. Let’s go, Dooley. Maybe we can figure out something about The Little Mermaid while Raxa calms herself down.”
McQueen heads back to the elevator, Dooley following him in in silence. McQueen presses the button for the top floor and crosses his arms.
“Um… Detective? Look, I… I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Dooley mumbles after a few moments. “The thing is, you’re my partner— I mean, like crime-busting partner, not that I’m insinuating anything else— oh, jeez, but if you decide you hate me now— I don’t know what I’d do, honestly, I-I know I’m not the sharpest star on the force, and you’ve been my closest friend since we were kids, a-and if you decided you couldn’t work with me anymore, I don’t know what I’d do—“
“Hey. Dooley,” McQueen says, interrupting his stumbling rant. “Just take a deep breath, okay?”
Dooley obliges, and the doors to the elevator click open. Neither of them make a move to get off.
“Look, I… honestly don’t know what to feel about what just happened,” McQueen says. “I’m not going to stop working with you over it, though. You’re… one of my dearest friends as well.”
His words make Dooley break into a small, grateful smile, and McQueen clears his throat.
“I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to really mull over what happened until we finish this case. So give me some time to think about it, all right?”
Dooley nods.
“Thanks, McQueen.”
“Sure. Now, let’s solve the rest of these books.”
The pair head to the creepy horror section. Surprisingly, there are no books flying around, and the bookshelf isn’t open.
“Let’s check inside the secret room. Just to make sure that no one is doing anything occult in there,” McQueen says.
“Good idea,” Dooley says. What a yes-man. McQueen pulls on the hidden book and the shelf slides open to reveal the ominous-looking door.
“I’ll be a gentleman and let you go first,” Dooley says. McQueen rolls his eyes but heads into the room anyway.
No ghosts visible to the naked eye, though McQueen thinks a ghost could probably be rubbing its ass on his face right now and he’d be none the wiser. No kids or patrons practicing occult magic in there, either. There is, however, a first aid kit.
“I wonder if there’s anything good in here,” McQueen says. Upon opening it, he discovers a pack of cough drops and an energy drink.
“Kind of a bare bones first aid kit,” Dooley notes.
“No kidding. And what’s an energy drink doing in there? That’s not really considered a health product,” McQueen says.
“Maybe we’re supposed to combine them to trip again and our third eye will open to see the answers to the mysteries?” Dooley says.
“We’re not doing that again.” McQueen pockets both items for later. “Actually, I think I know what we’re supposed to do with the cough drops.”
“Really? What?” Poor, sweet Dooley. Not a thought behind those eyes, McQueen thinks.
“We already met someone with a sore throat. Actually, more of a cold, so I don’t know how much good the cough drops would do, but it seems like the logical solution, doesn’t it?”
“It’s worth a shot!” Dooley says encouragingly.
They make their way back down to the children’s section, where the library patron is still fearfully reading with the book flying about.
“Here, try this,” McQueen says, offering the packet of cough drops to the patron.
“Don’t worry, they’re not poisoned or anything,” Dooley adds in. The patron takes the cough drops, though more hesitantly once Dooley has added his two cents.
They pop one into their mouth, sucking for a moment before their eyes pop wide open.
“Wow!” they exclaim. “I feel so much better. Thank you so much!”
“It’s crazy that that actually worked,” McQueen mutters. As he says that, The Little Mermaid shudders and falls to the ground.
“We took care of that pesky ghost book too! Two birds with one cough drop,” Dooley grins.
“Well, we just have one more book to take care of. Thank you, unnamed nonbinary library patron who we’ll never see again,” McQueen says.
“Sure thing!” the patron says, giving them a thumbs up. The pair head back to the elevator.
“Maybe we missed something in the reading room with Sleeping Beauty,” McQueen says.
“Actually, come to think of it, wasn’t there like a back computer room in there last time we investigated?” Dooley asks.
“Dooley, that’s… actually a brilliant idea. I’m surprised,” McQueen says.
“I’m full of surprises. Like that time I was camping with the Bloodwolves and I woke up and a crab crawled out of my mouth. I don’t even know how that got in there!”
McQueen doesn’t want to know more about that story, so he doesn’t ask. They head back up to the reading room.
“Hey guys,” Raxa says, back on her computer. “Have you calmed down yet?”
“Have you?” McQueen sneers. “We’re here to look in the back room.”
Raxa shrugs, gesturing for them to go ahead. “I haven’t been in there today. I heard that a man was arrested for masturbating to a ghost masturbating to porn. I’ll put up with a lot, but the human involvement is where I draw the line.”
“Sure. Uh, Dooley, you can open this door,” McQueen says.
“Don’t worry, Detective,” Dooley says. “You won’t be seeing any penises today if I can help it.”
“How generous of you,” McQueen says.
Dooley puts a hand on the door handle (and the other on his co— glock) and whips the door open way too aggressively. Despite Dooley’s attempt to shield him from any potential penises, McQueen peers over his shoulder.
They’re greeted with the sight of a man lying on the floor. For a second, McQueen thinks they’ve stumbled upon a murder, but the ZZZs coming from the man’s body make it evident that he’s only asleep.
“Oh. This must be why the energy drink was conveniently in the first aid kit,” McQueen says. He pops the tab of the drink open, but isn’t exactly sure how to get it in the man’s mouth, so he pours it in his general nose/mouth area. The man jolts up, coughing and sputtering.
“What the hell was that about?” he asks. “I was just trying to take a nap in the library after a long day of reading kids books, and you decide to waterboard me?”
“Did it work, Dooley?” McQueen asks. His partner peeks his head out of the closet into the reading room.
“Sleeping Beauty just fell to the floor! We did it, Detective!” Dooley shouts.
“Hey, don’t ignore me,” the waterboarded man says.
“I guess that means we solved the case,” McQueen says, joining Dooley and Raxa in the reading room.
“Dooley and McQueen save the day again,” says Dooley smugly.
“They were right; you all really are bastards,” the waterboarded man says, grumpily exiting the room.
“Did you ever happen to find out what was causing the weird activity, Raxa?” McQueen asks.
“Nope. I didn’t get any paranormal readings or anything,” Raxa says. “It’s super weird how easily the case was resolved, too. It’s like it was just a plot point or something.”
“Plot point?” Dooley asks. “To what?”
Raxa shrugs.
“Well, anyhow,” McQueen says, turning away from the fourth wall, “it seems our work here is done. I think you should stop borrowing library books, Dooley. Somehow it always appears to get us into trouble.”
“You might be right. I was trying to save money by not buying books, but considering how much I spend on Doris, I might be in the red.”
“Goodbye, Raxa,” McQueen says.
“Bye, Detective. See ya, Officer Dooley. Catch you at the next weird crime scene.”
“I’m sure we’ll see you then!” Dooley says.
They both head back to the elevator. McQueen leans back on the wall once they’re inside. He really is looking forward to being able to leave the library — it seems like cases always pop up when he’s off-duty.
“So, Detective,” Dooley starts. “About what you said earlier. So, um, the case is over now.”
“Oh. Right,” McQueen says. “You want to know what I think about it. What happened before. Our, ah…”
“Our kiss, yeah,” Dooley says. McQueen thinks the officer looks almost nervous waiting for an answer. He sighs.
“Honestly, I still don’t know what to think,” McQueen says.
“Oh,” Dooley says, disappointment evident in his voice.
“But… that doesn’t mean it was entirely unpleasant. Definitely out of line for the workplace,” McQueen says, scratching his head. “If the Chief found out — or, god forbid, McKing — we’d never hear the end of it. And it was a lot of tongue.”
“Right.”
“I… might be tempted to do it again, at some point in the future,” McQueen blushes. “It wasn’t bad.”
Dooley is quiet for a moment, before he asks, “Detective?”
“Yeah?” McQueen looks over to see Dooley tapping his pointer fingers together.
“When you say ‘some point in the future,’ what about…”
“Right now?” McQueen finishes. Dooley nods.
McQueen takes a single step towards Dooley in the elevator and suddenly they’re in each others’ arms again, Dooley pulling him close by his trenchcoat. Their lips press together, and McQueen notes how gentle Dooley is being this time, which causes him to melt a little. Dooley’s hand comes to rest on his back, the other gently caressing McQueen’s hair, as he dips him ever so slightly, and McQueen pushes back any inhibitions to hold Dooley back just as tightly.
A sharp ding interrupts their makeout sesh, and the pair jump apart as the elevator doors open. Raxa is standing there, mouth agape.
“You, uh, didn’t press any buttons, I guess,” she says. She finally manages to close her mouth, her lips pulling into a sly grin. “So.”
“Fuck,” McQueen says.