Author's Note:
My first one-shot. About Ed, Spike, and that cat mentioned in Clean Hands. (Wrote this when I should have been writing on Reunion... what can I say, the 'inspiration bunny' has invaded my mind.)
I don't own Flashpoint. Or, the idea for this story. I only own the way I phrased it.
'Kay, so alert me with any spelling/grammatical/character personality errors. Have fun reading!
"Okay, we'll split up into three groups. Jules and Greg, go in through the side entrance. Sam, Lou, and Wordy, take the ram and make a scene out front. Spike and I will sneak in through the back. Get in positions." Ed grabs his MP-5 and jogs around the side of the house, with Spike at his heels.
They are investigating a 9-1-1 call. The caller had told the operator that she heard gunshots next door. Team One had nothing to do that day but exercise, so they offered to go and check it out. When they had gotten to the house, they heard the unmistakable sound of a machine gun that was later identified as a M249. Spike had pulled up blueprints to the house, and Ed decided on a quick extraction. After they discovered that one Elmo Dorson owned the house, they gathered around Spike as he showed them the lay of the land. There was a living room, a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bath. Then Ed told them the entry plan.
Ed creeps slowly toward the back door. He tries the handle. It clicks and won't budge; it's locked. Instead of kicking the door down, he calmly steps back to let Spike do his thing. In 10 seconds flat, the door springs open. Spike grins and steps back. He's just beaten the SRU record of on-the-scene lock picking. He won't easily forget this day, Ed knows it.
They silently step inside the door. Ed does some hand motions to let Spike know what to do. He moves on ahead and lets Spike slowly shut the door behind him.
Ed finds himself alone outside the door to the first bedroom. He waves at Jules and Greg, and tells them through SRU sign language to investigate the bathroom and kitchen. When he sees that Spike is a few steps behind him, he carefully opens the door.
A flurry of claws and fur attacks Ed's face. He hollers, either from fright or pain. Probably both. Before Spike could do anything, the cat climbed up Ed's face and sits on his head. Then the little devil pees all over Ed's scalp and starts clawing at Ed's eyeballs
Spike clips his MP5 to his vest. He grips the cat's right foreleg, and starts trying to extract the feline's claws from Ed's cranium. Huge, manly tears are streaming down Ed's face, mixing with blood from his cheeks.
Wordy is the first to make it to the room. He stands there, stunned for a moment as he watches the sight in front of him. Then he grabs one of the cat's legs and starts detaching it. After a few moments, Spike and Wordy have the cat off of Ed. They actually have to use zip-ties to keep it's legs from flailing. The cat is quite a sight, being dangled by it's tail, it's legs and mouth zip-tied.
Jules has a first-aid kit, and is tending to Ed's mangled face and scalp. Lou and Sam are finishing the sweep. Greg is giving Ed moral support as Ed sobs uncontrollably. Spike and Wordy sit on the bed, trying to decide what to do with the demon-cat.
Just as Spike and Wordy's ideas, shared and unshared, start to become ridiculous, Sam and Lou return from the sweep. They have Elmo Dorson with them.
"I'm mighty sorry fer the trouble I've a-caused," drawled the American-Canadian. "Ah've just moved here, ya see, and I didn't know that I couldn't shoot mah gun at mah cat in mah own house anymore."
"Is it legal for you to do that in the USA?" asks Lou out of genuine curiosity.
"Well... no, not really," admits Elmo. "But ah lived in an old farmhouse, and no one was a-bothered by mah shootin'."
"I don't blame you for shooting at that devil of a cat," says Ed between sobs. Elmo just looks at Ed, not knowing what to think. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he starts apologizing profusely.
"Sir, we're going to have to take you to the police station for questioning," states Sam as he pulls Elmo out of the bedroom, despite Elmo's protests.
A week later, Wordy walks into the locker room. Spike is shirtless, pulling all of his possessions out of his locker.
"Whoa, Spike. What are you doing?" asks Wordy as he sits on a bench.
"I can't find any of my shirts!" explains a frazzled Spike. "The one I came in isn't here, and neither is my backup shirt. Ma's gonna kill me!"
"You know, the look on your face right now reminds me of Ed's 'cat problem'." Wordy chuckles as Spike ducks his head to hide his laughter. They look each other in the eyes for a long second, then burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Ed is suddenly standing in the doorway, a deadly serious look on his scarred face. Wordy and Spike stop laughing immediately. Spike starts digging for a shirt again, and Wordy turns around and tugs at one of his boots. Then Ed's expression softens, and he offers a small chuckle. "I am never going to look at a cat in the same way again."
Wordy snorts in amusement, and Spike slaps his palms over his mouth to prevent any unwonted laughter.
"Oh, and Spike. I think I saw Lou wearing one of your shirts..." Ed trails off as Spike growls, knowing that he can't go chase Lou down and demand his shirt back.
"I'll go get Lou," Wordy offers helpfully. Spike nods, and Wordy jogs off in search of the less-lethal expert.
"Hey, Spike." Ed falters slightly, peaking Spike's interest. "Thanks for helping me back there. I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't taken immediate action."
"It wasn't just me; Wordy helped too." Spike doesn't want to take full credit for prying the cat off of Ed's head. He knows that it must have hurt.
"From what Wordy's told me, he only helped hold the cat in place. You did all the work. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Ed."
Another Author's Note:
So, how did you like it? Short, I know. But, it is a one-shot. It's in present tense; it was the only way that made sense to me as I was writing it. Review, let me know how I did and all! Ciao!