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It never rains but it pours. For every day of relative peace in the city of Cascade, there is at least a week of rampant crime, disasters, accidents, and kittens up trees.
Such a week had just concluded, and the hard-working officers of the city—especially in Major Crimes—were looking forward to another day of rest.The previous one, around which had centered the incident of the flying food, was far enough past that it had been forgotten...almost.
Friday plodded along, and the detectives answered phones, sharpened pencils, addressed paperwork accrued over the last week, and generally acted like bored secretaries, minus the bubblegum. As the day came to a close, and the afternoon shift began heading home, Captain Simon Banks passed Police Observer Blair Sandburg in the hall, exchanging a conspiratal wink.
And it began.
Blair reached his destination, handing one of the cups of coffee he held to his partner. "So how's it going?"
Jim glared. "I'm beginning to remember why I try to make you do this."
"Hey, man, we flipped for it, fair and square."
Jim's answer was cut off by Simon rushing in and announcing to the bullpen at large, "We've got an emergency down in the holding cells!"
"What?" came the urgent queries of five energetic people anxious for action.
"Slim Pickins Fyodor just escaped!"
"Hold a second, Captain. Who is Slim Pickins Fyodor?" the resident Sentinel demanded.
"The man who just escaped his holding cell," Simon answered,logically enough.
"Oh yeah, isn't he that Russian noveli—I mean, pickpocket,that—" Blair began.
"I don't care who he is," Simon cut him off, "we just have to get him back. They're understaffed with the shift change in progress, and we're available to give a hand." His detectives were obligated to assist, difficult as it was to leave their paperwork.
The bullpen was cleared in 0.5 seconds of all but Captain and Observer, who sauntered out after the others, trying their best to hide their smirks.
When they reached the basement the detectives filed into the cell Simon indicated. Joel checked for explosives—escaped prisoners had been known to leave behind "gifts" for unsuspecting officers. Megan examined the lock while Brown frowned at the floor of the jail, trying to visualize the situation.
Blair tagged behind Jim as he cased the rest of the area, soon drawing him aside. "Hey, there might be something you could scratch 'n sniff inside the cell, since we're trying to get the bead on how this guy flew the coop."
Jim nodded, agreeing. Cranking up his senses to pick up any unusual traces he entered the cell.
Hearing the screech of sliding metal, he spun in time to see the door locking, a grinning Simon and Blair behind it.
All four detectives rushed to the bars with startled protests."What the—"
"Payback," Simon informed them, when it became clear Blair was too busy stifling giggles to reply. "I really had wanted that lo mein."
"And I really didn't want it—in my hair, at least," Blair added with a slight bounce.
"Sandburg..." Jim growled, his voice hinting at a wide array of homicidal tendencies. He made a long-armed snatch through the bars.
Blair rocketed backwards out of reach. "Oh boy..."
"Now Jim, you don't want to stay in there with assault charges on your records, do you?" asked Simon politely. "So long,gentlemen."
"And lady." Blair tipped an imaginary hat in Connor's direction, and both walked out, to the cross exclamations of the jailed detectives.
As the door closed Jim leaned his head against the bars. "I'm gonna kill him."
"I'll help," the other three volunteered instantly.
Jim shook his head. "Should've suspected something was up, Sandburg never uses that many metaphors..."
"Hey, gents," Connor commented, "one of us is missing."
"Yeah, where's Rafe?" Joel realized her point.
"Out to pick up a snack," Brown accounted for his partner. "He should be back any minute now..." He trailed off as smiles returned to all their faces.
Rafe had no idea of the expectations assigned to him by his colleagues below. He was too concerned with trying to wring the rainwater out of his trench coat. Cats and dogs didn't begin to describe it; more like panthers and wolves...
He paused at the entrance of the deserted bullpen. "Hello?"
Simon and Blair emerged from the captain's office. Rafe could almost swear he heard a chuckle—from Captain Banks, which was most unusual. "Where is everyone?"
Simon looked at Blair. "They're out."
Blair looked right back at Simon. "You know, around. Oh,is that Chinese?"
"Yeah." Rafe plopped it onto the desk. "Good thing it comes in plastic bags or it'd be all over the streets. It's torrentially downpouring out there—"
"Lo mein?" the other two inquired.
"Um, no, I thought, what with last time..."
Observer and captain exchanged incomprehensible glances. Blair cocked his head. Simon turned back to his detective. "Rafe,that pickpocket suspect from last week—"
"What suspect?"
"Slim Pi—never mind. He's...an informant. He's down in the holding cells right now, thought you'd like to question him while you're waiting for your partner and the rest."
"Sure, Captain."
They headed downstairs. Blair tagged along, smiling about some unknown thing, probably an anthropologic aside, but for once he wasn't commenting aloud. Interestingly he hesitated outside the door to the holding cell. "I'll, uh...you know, he isn't gonna be very happywith me about now..."
"Sure, Sandburg," Simon nodded understandingly.
Rafe blinked. "Wait, what does Blair have to do with this—"
"You'll see. Come on."
The first thing he noticed upon entrance were four angry voices. They sounded oddly familiar, and then he saw who was in the cell. "Captain, hey—" then slap, click, and Captain Banks was deftly securing the handcuff to the cell bars. The other end was already around Rafe's wrist.
The detective made a valiant grab but missed Simon by a good foot. Before he had time to ponder this new twist, the captain had shrugged and departed, to the loud objections of five prisoners.
"What, are they crazy, have they gone completely nuts?"Rafe stared anxiously at the closed door.
"No...I think this is what you'd have to term 'revenge',"Jim explained with a long-suffering sigh.
The room was quiet. Until Rafe had a sudden epiphany regarding his position, his fellow officers' position, and the position of one police captain and one police observer. Yanking at his restraints, he cried, to the confusion of the rest, "My Chinese!"
Blair leaned forward and speared a wonton with his chopsticks. "You know, Simon, I'm really not looking forward to being here when we release them. I mean, Jim's seriously gonna kill me."
"I don't know, Jim can be tough but he's pretty good about taking his licks if they're deserved."
"That's all well for you—you aren't living with him! If I come to the station tomorrow with my spine wrapped around my neck...but the longer we leave him in there..."
"Hmm." Simon considered this as he chewed on his bean sprouts."Well, revenge can be entertaining, but there is a limit. A joke can go too far, and it's best to end them before they reach that point. We got enjoyment out of it, we got our payback, and now it's over. We had fun getting them in there..."
Blair stared at him, wonton forgotten, and gulped audibly."Uh, Simon..."
The captain settled back in his chair, his serious expression beginning to crumble. "And we'll have fun hearing how the night shift let them out."
In the holding cell, silence reigned. Resigned to the loss of his supper, Rafe had slid to the floor, back against the bars. "Okay,I'm a detective."
"Yup."
"Yeah."
"Uh-huh."
"You're telling us."
"And I'm supposed to be trained in the skill of observation."
"Yes."
"That's what they say."
"You got it."
"Right."
"And they were smirking behind my back the entire way down."
"Sounds right."
"Probably."
"Definitely."
"Of course."
"And I should have known this was coming after last week."
"Mmm."
"Agreed."
"Very true."
"Absolutely."
Rafe stared at the white wall opposite. "You know, we have to get them for this."
"No kidding!" came the instant agreement of his four cellmates.