Author's notes: Since this story is K's fault, I dedicate it to her. To help me overcome writer's block, she gave me the first line and challenged me to write a two page story to go with it. It was so deliciously goofy, I couldn't resist. My muse, however, insisted on seven pages, which may be seven pages too long. You be the judge. *g*
Thanks to K and debraC, both of whom had wonderful advice for improvements and an eagle eye for typos. Remaining mistakes belong to me.
Flat Tires and Chihuahuas
by ysone
Blair knew he could probably explain the flat tire, the cast on his foot even though it wasn't broken, and the Mickey Mouse balloon, but he had no idea how he was going to explain the Chihuahua.
"Blair?"
"I'm thinking, man. Give me a minute."
"Try the truth."
"No way, Jim. You know that saying, 'truth is stranger than fiction'? Well, multiply that by about a thousand. You wouldn't believe the truth. *I* hardly believe it, and I lived it."
"Try me. And sit before you fall down."
"I'm just trying to work out the cramps now that the cast is off."
"You don't get cramps from a foot cast, Sandburg."
"How do you know? You ever had one? One you didn't need?"
"No, I can honestly say, I've never had a cast I didn't need."
"Then how do you know they don't cause cramps? My foot is definitely cramping, Jim."
"It's psychosomatic, Blair."
"Doesn't make it any less irritating."
*sigh*
"Come on, Jim, show a little sympathy, would you?"
"Why don't you try explaining, and I'll decide if you deserve sympathy?"
"......"
"Well?"
"I'm thinking, Jim. You wanted the truth, right? So let me get my facts straight."
"Start at the beginning."
"The beginning? The beginning, man, is two nights ago, when you were assigned to a stakeout. An *all night* stakeout."
"What does my stakeout have to do with your…predicament?"
"Predicament? Cute, Jim."
"Answer the question."
"It has everything to do with it, man. That's what started this whole mess. I went with you, remember? On your *all night* stakeout? The one that lasted from dusk 'til dawn?"
"I remember, Sandburg. I was there."
"Don't get testy with me, Jim. I'm *so* not in the mood to deal with a testy sentinel. And stop grinning, damn it!"
"I'm not grinning."
"You are grinning. Stop it. Do you want the story or not?"
"I'm not grinning, and I want the story."
"Okay, then. Not only did I not get any sleep the night of the stakeout, but I wasn't able to work on my paper, and it had to be turned in this morning, so I had to stay up last night to finish it."
"Ah, Chief. I'm sorry. You should have said something."
"Why?"
"I could have taken someone else…"
"No way, man. It's my job to watch your back. Besides, that's not the point. I've pulled all nighters before, and I'm sure I'll do it again. Ordinarily it wouldn't be a problem."
"So why was it this time?"
"Because Oz and Fayiz are idiots!"
"You want to run that by me again?"
"You're a sentinel; you heard me. Oz and Fayiz are idiots."
"Oz and Fayiz…do I know them?"
"You met them once, at The Bistro, the night of Janis' party. Oz is a big, dark, Australian soccer player, and Fayiz is Arabic. Both are loud, pushy, obnoxious--"
"Wait, I remember. They're medical students, right? I thought they were your friends."
"*Were* being the operative word there, Jim. They *were* my friends."
"What happened?"
"I was tired. Consecutive nights with no sleep will do that to you. After my last class, I went to Janis' office -- she has a couch in there -- to grab a fast nap."
"And…?"
"Why are you being so damned pushy, man? I'm getting to it."
"Sorry."
"No, you aren't. Anyway, like I was *trying* to say, I fell asleep on the couch in Janis' office. I intended to just grab a quick power nap because I was planning on going by the hospital to visit Serena's little girl on the way home."
"That explains the Mickey Mouse balloon."
"Duh."
"She's doing better, by the way. I think she'll be going home tomorrow."
"That's great news! I'm sure Serena's relieved. Anyway...I guess I was more tired than I thought, because I conked out, man. We're talking dead to the world."
"Where do Oz and Fayiz come in?"
"Right here. Literally. Evidently, I was too good a target to pass up."
"Don't tell me…they decided to practice their cast making on you while you slept."
"Got it in one."
"Saw it on an episode of ER once. They put a cast on some doctor's leg while he slept."
"I never said they were original."
"They're idiots."
"What did I say? That's where I got the shiner, too."
"They gave you a black eye?"
"Not directly, but it was dark in the office by the time I finally woke up, and I had no clue I had a cast on my foot, so when I tried to stand up, I fell and hit my face on a chair."
"Sheesh, Chief, you could've been hurt!"
"I *was* hurt, Jim!"
"I want those idiots' names and addresses, Sandburg."
"Oh? It's against the law to put a false cast on a man while he sleeps? Well, then, by all means, I'll press charges."
"Sarcasm doesn't become you."
"Who's being sarcastic?"
"No, there's not a law. I just want to have a talk with them."
"Forget it, Jim. I'll take care of it."
"Sandburg--"
"I said forget it, man. I don't need 'big brother' fighting my battles for me. Besides, they didn't intend for me to get hurt. It was a practical joke. Hell, most of the time, I'm in on these things with them. It's just not quite as funny from the other side."
"Weeellll…"
"Damn it, Jim! It's not funny! Stop laughing!"
"You've got to admit, if it were anyone else…"
"It *still* wouldn't be funny!"
"Blair…"
"Okay, tomorrow it'll be funny. Tonight, I'm pissed."
"That explains the cast, Chief, and the balloon, but what about the flat tire and the Chihuahua?"
"Those aren't my fault, Jim. I was just trying to do a good deed."
"And…?"
"And…*sigh*…life bites me in the ass again. Scoot over, Jim."
"I'm comfortable here. Sit in the chair. What about the flat tire?"
"It was the dog's fault. After I tried -- unsuccessfully -- to track down Oz and Fayiz to get them to take the damned cast off, I decided I could just go by the ER while I was visiting Serena's daughter and get them to take it off. Not that I was looking forward to having to explain how I ended up with an unnecessary cast on my foot, but I figured that was better than spending half the night looking for those two idiots."
"Nice of them to put it on your left foot."
"For real. At least I could still drive. Anyway, I was going down Sparkman Boulevard toward the hospital and, sheesh, Jim, you know what traffic's like on Sparkman. There was this little white dog on the shoulder, not even on the grass, but on the pavement part of the shoulder. He looked terrified. I couldn't just ignore him, Jim, you know that."
"Of course not."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just that you couldn't pass him up."
"No. No, you said it like I'm some kind of softhearted wimp. Is that what you think? Why are you smirking? Jim, I'm not a wimp."
"But you are softhearted."
"I am no-- okay, yes, I am, but what's wrong with that?"
"Nothing. Not a thing."
"You'd have done the same thing."
"Probably."
"You would. You don't fool me, Ellison. You're mush on the inside."
"Sandburg…"
"All right, all right. I hate it when you growl. What kind of person growls?"
"Sandburg!"
"I'm getting to it. So. I stopped to 'rescue' the poor thing. Trouble was, he wasn't aware of the plan. God, I hate little dogs! Have I ever told you that? They nip and bark and snap…and you never know where you stand with them. I mean, with a big dog, you can tell. If their tail is wagging, they're all right with you, and you know that. But with a little dog, man, the tail wags the whole time they're chewing your arm off."
"Did the dog bite you, Blair?"
"Chill, Jim. I'm okay."
"That's not what I asked you."
"Ow, hey, let go of the arm, man…Jim! Let go! Okay, he bit me, but they stitched it up at the hospital."
"Damn…he could have had rabies--"
"No, he didn't. He had tags; he's up to date with his shots. They cleaned it out good at the hospital and stitched it up. I'm good. Honest."
"You know better than to try to pick up a strange dog, Sandburg."
"Yeah, I know, but, Jim, it was Sparkman Boulevard, and he was terrified. If I hadn't caught him he'd be dead by now, and I just couldn't live with that, so I had to do what I could."
"……"
"You're not going to say anything?"
"No."
"No? I'm sure you've got an 'I told you so' in there somewhere."
"No. What happened next?"
"You do, too, man. He wouldn't let me near him, and I was worried he was going to run out on the highway, so I took off my jacket and threw it over him. It worked, but it scared him so bad he peed all over my jacket, and when I picked him up, he bit me."
"Bet you wish you'd worn your thicker jacket."
"This isn't funny, Jim."
"I'm sure it's not."
"Then quit laughing, damn it!"
"You going to finish this story sometime tonight, Chief?"
"I'm trying to. It was when I got back to the car that I saw I had a flat tire. Perfect ending to a perfect day, you know? I mean, what else could go wrong? Ha! If only I'd known!"
"There's more?"
"I was standing there looking at the flat tire, holding this pissing, snarling, mouth full of teeth, and suddenly it dawns on me…I don't have a spare."
"What? You don't have a spare?"
"Calm down, Jim. Yes, I don't have a spare. I *did* have one, but I used it last week, when I had that flat on the way to the station, remember?"
"I thought you were going to get a new one."
"A new one? Get real, Jim. I was going to get the old one fixed, and I did. I dropped it off…but I…forgot to go back and pick it up."
"You forgot."
"Yeah. I didn't remember until I saw that I had another flat."
"So, why didn't you just call me at that point?"
"I would have…but…"
"But…?"
"But…ilockedthekeysinthecarwhenigotouttorescuetheChihuahua."
"What? Blair, even I can't hear you if you talk into your chest."
"I locked the damn keys in the car when I got out to chase the damn dog. All right? You happy now?"
"Not entirely, but I'm well on my way."
"Go to hell, Jim."
"Sit back down, Sandburg. I'm not laughing at you, but you have to admit that's…that's…well, quite a mental picture."
"Not if you had to live it."
"Ah, come on, Chief. Admit it. It's funny."
"Maybe from where you're sitting. Jim, I was stranded on the side of the highway, in the dark, in the *cold*, with my pee-drenched jacket wrapped around a dog that wanted to have my arm for supper, with my *un*broken leg in a cast…Oh my God! It is funny."
"Then why aren't you laughing?"
"Tomorrow I'll laugh, Jim. I'm too tired tonight."
"Thank God that patrol car happened by, huh?"
"Yeah. I'd probably still be standing out there in the cold."
"What happened to the dog?"
"Huh? Don't know. Animal control, I guess. I mean, he had tags, so I'm sure they found his owner."
"Go to bed, Chief, before you fall asleep sitting there."
"Too tired. Just throw a blanket over me, man."
"No, you don't, come on…up you go…come on, Chief, cooperate. Did you manage any dinner?"
"Ow, man, don't pull on the arm. I told you I have stitches. No, I didn't, but I'm not hungry. Just tired. I'll see you in the morning, Jim. Night."
"Night. Get plenty of rest, Chief. Tomorrow's another day."
"Oh, man…why'd you have to say that, Jim?"