Merry Christmas, Mr. Robbins
by
Kahva
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody or anything with The Streets of San Francisco. I'll only lay claim to my own craziness and a love of good TV. The only characters I own are the ones I have created.
Author's Note: This fic takes place after the end of the fifth season, during Christmas 1977.
Mike wasn't sure what made him respond to the call. It was Christmas Eve and he was heading home early, eager to see Jeannie and let her know that yes, in addition to having invited Steve, he was going to once again try to convince Dan to join them for Christmas this year. Steve had been easier to convince all those years ago on that first Christmas as partners. But last Christmas, the first one Mike had been partnered with him, Dan had politely declined, saying that he had already made plans.
Mike had found out from another officer about a week later that Dan's plans apparently had been to have a late lunch at one of the few restaurants open on Christmas Day, all alone, and "looking lost", as the man had put it. It made Mike wonder if Dan had been stood up by a date that day and hadn't felt like he could take Mike up on his offer at the last minute. Well, Mr. Daniel Robbins had another thought coming if he believed that this year! Mike firmly believed that no one should be alone on Christmas if it could be helped, so he was going to make sure that Dan was with someone, somewhere on Christmas Day, even if he had to enlist Jeannie and Steve both to help him kidnap his young partner if he couldn't be otherwise persuaded.
Dan had left even earlier than Mike, so he hadn't had the chance to invite Dan yet for Christmas this year. Mike had decided to drive by Dan's home to ask face to face rather than call. He figured it would be harder for Dan to refuse an in person invitation, plus Mike would be better able to determine if his partner was trying to hide something if he turned him down again this year. Mike was only a few minutes away from Dan's house when the call came about a break in at a small charity organization's building. It wasn't too far out of the way from Dan's so for reasons he couldn't explain, Mike found himself automatically heading to the address to see if anyone needed assistance. There would probably be black and whites already on the scene and they wouldn't need him, but he felt drawn to go anyway. As he made the corner he noticed Dan's Bronco parked in front of the building but no units yet, and Mike wondered if Dan had heard the call as well. It would be just like the young Inspector to help out if he had heard the call on the scanner he kept in his vehicle and had been close by. But if Dan was already working the scene, Mike couldn't see him anywhere.
What he did see though sent a chill down his spine. There was a woman in the doorway of the non-profit crying and screaming, holding an older man who looked to be about her age and trying to get him into the building – it looked like he'd been knocked down or had fallen, he was holding his left knee with one hand. In front of the building there was a young man lying on the ground, curled up and holding his stomach. Good Lord, is that Dan? Mike thought briefly. He couldn't get a good look, the man wasn't facing in Mike's direction, but the dark-haired fellow on the ground resembled his partner from a distance, he thought. But the scene a few feet away was even more chilling. There were two other young men, both wearing ski masks, both armed with what looked like crowbars, fighting with Santa Claus. At least, someone in a Santa suit, and someone who knew how to defend themselves rather well as he was keeping both assailants at bay without a weapon of his own in sight. Sirens cut through the air, backup would be there in less than a minute. "Santa" took advantage of the distraction and landed a hard right uppercut to the jaw of one would-be crook who went down with an audible groan, he was not getting up again under his own power anytime soon. The Santa then managed to grab the crowbar the second crook was holding and yank it out of his hands, tossing it to the side, but at a cost – the second man had the chance to pull out a handgun in that brief moment, and it was pointed straight at Santa's chest.
The whole thing had happened in less time than it took for Mike to stop the tan LTD and pull his own weapon. "Freeze, police!" he yelled, hoping the crook would have the sense to drop his gun and not hurt whoever was in the Santa suit. "Santa shot on Christmas Eve" was not the headline he wanted to see in tomorrow's paper, or the image he wanted to go to bed with that night.
The Santa seemed just as surprised to see Mike standing there as the gunman was, but the gunman wasn't about to give up a hostage. "You stay right there or Santa gets a hole in his suit!" he yelled, motioning for the Santa to put his hands up. "Santa" complied, slowly raising his hands up to shoulder height. Mike watched the Santa, he was slowly moving towards the street, just a few steps, giving Mike some breathing room should he need to take a shot.
Good man, whoever you are, Mike thought. "You don't want to do this, especially not on Christmas Eve, son," Mike called out to the gunman, hoping to reason with him. "Don't make this worse on yourself."
"Hah!" the gunman snorted. "Do you think I'm scared of you, Stone? Yeah, I know you, you busted me and my guys last year for killing that old lady. I still remember where you live Stone, you make a move and old Santa here gets to go back to the North Pole in a body bag! Then I'll go to your place, maybe your daughter will be home this time – I didn't get to say hi to her last year! I wanted a Valentine's Day date!"
Mike fought not to let his anger show, recognizing the young crook's voice at last. Henry Brown, leader of the Jackals, the whole lot of them arrested almost two years ago as Mike's memory served for robbery, and for murder in the death of one Mrs. Helen King. Mike remembered seeing the report come across his desk a few weeks ago, a prison van taking Brown and two others to court had wrecked. One prisoner was seriously injured, the other two had escaped. One had been caught within minutes, but the other, Henry, had gotten away. Well now we know where he is, Mike thought. Daniel, where are you? Mike thought he heard the young man curled up on the ground moan – was that Dan? Had he been beaten with a crowbar by one of the suspects, had they gotten the drop on him? Or worse, gut shot? Mike hadn't seen any blood, he wasn't even sure it was Dan, but the thought that his partner might be lying hurt somewhere, hurt by Henry and whoever the young thug's partner was, that Henry was willing to kill an innocent unarmed man and still go after his Jeannie made Mike see red. Black and whites were showing up now, he could see Officer Morton hopping out of his unit, back behind Henry and the Santa, Officer Hague not far behind. "You're not going to get away with this Brown," Mike called out, keeping his anger under tight control. Belatedly, he noticed that while the Santa still had his hands up, he wasn't moving away from Henry anymore, but slowly moving back towards him, taking advantage of Henry's attention being divided. What are you up to Santa? Mike thought. "There's nowhere to run, put the gun down and put your hands on your head!"
"Forget that Stone! I've got Santa here, you can't do a thing to me! You can't spoil Christmas for the kids this year, can you?" Henry sneered, still waving the gun at his hostage, but all of his attention on the lieutenant now, not paying attention to just how close Santa was getting to him.
"Drop your weapon!" Morton called out. "You're surrounded!"
The next few moments seemed to go in slow motion for Mike. Henry whirled around and fired at Officer Morton, causing both him and Hague to have to duck for cover. Henry was so focused on the uniformed officers though, he forgot all about Santa and Mike. Before another shot could be taken, Santa had tackled the thug to the ground, knocking the gun out of his hand, quickly wrestling him onto his stomach and pulling his wrists behind his back. Mike kicked Henry's gun away then knelt down by Santa in time to hear him say, "Santa doesn't like it when you're naughty." The red-suited man sounded slightly winded from taking the crook down. "You're under arrest."
Mike suppressed a relieved chuckle and pulled out his handcuffs. "Sounds like you've done this before, Santa," he said as he cuffed Brown, taking quite a bit of pleasure in getting the hoodlum off of the streets and back behind bars, just in time for Christmas too. The young man he'd been worried about was picking himself up off of the ground at last, and Mike finally got a good look at him and saw that it wasn't Dan at all, but someone much younger, just with a similar build and haircut as his partner. The elderly woman and man were both fussing over the young man by this time, calling him Benji, so he obviously had been a victim also, not in on the crime with Henry and his partner. Henry's partner was being cuffed by Morton, everything was under control, but where was Dan? "Nice work there," the lieutenant told Santa, trying hard not to worry about where his partner could be. Don't invite trouble when you don't have to, Stone, he sternly told himself.
"Thanks, Mike. Good timing on your part, but what brings you out here, you're supposed to be off duty by now, won't Jeannie get worried?"
"I'll call her and let her know I got side-tracked," Mike started, then stared at the Santa as Officer Hague took Henry away. "Wait, how do you know my daughter, or me? And where's my partner, that's his Bronco over there."
Santa laughed and removed his hat and wig. "I guess I've gotten pretty good at this over the last few years after all." He laughed even more at the shocked look on Mike Stone's face. "Glad you had your cuffs, mine are locked up with my gun, don't need to have them or weapons near the kids coming over tonight. Close your mouth Mike, you're liable to catch a fly like that," Santa grinned.
"Dan?!"