Cylons: 0, Earth: …
Absolutely none of the TV shows, books, movies or characters featured in the following chapters belongs to me.
Earth: 1.
Denny Crane slowly lowered the rifle, glancing around the almost silent offices of Crane, Poole and Schmitt. In the conference room, he could see Shirley, gesturing with a switchblade at a large group of people. Denise was at the door, watching the now still intruder. Movement caught Denny's eye. Brad, pistol in hand, was checking offices, calming people as he went. For a second, they looked at each other, then nodded, one marksman to another.
Denny frowned, he'd seen Shirley, and Paul was out for the day. Where was Alan? The elevator doors pinged, bringing Denny's attention to them. Alan Shore stepped out, ignored the smoking corpse on the floor and strode over to Denny. As he reached him, Alan said, "Denny, I thought you got rid of that rifle. We had a chat about it, remember? No more guns at the office."
"This is a different rifle. And you said guns. This is my only one."
"Perhaps so. But explosive rounds? In a confined space?"
"It worked, didn't it?"
Denny glanced down, the over at the conference room. Shirley was watching him through the glass. He cocked the rifle, placing his foot on his newest prize.
"Damn cylons. Denny Crane."
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