He was running late, as usual. He rushed into the squadroom, his coffee burning one hand, the files from his latest case cramping the other. He groaned as he dropped all the files on the floor. Papers flew eveywhere. Stooping down to pick them up, he was mildly relieved that the coffee hadn't spilled all over them. Detective Elliot Stabler was depressed. It had started raining on Friday afternoon and was still going on this dreary Monday morning. Plus, their latest case was really wearing him down. The biggest drug lord on the entire East Coast was suffering from a business pummeling (read: the cops were onto him) and in turn was taking out his revenge by kidnapping, torturing, and murdering innocent preschoolers. Narcotics weren't pulling their weight, leaving the cases to fall on Special Victims and Homicide. They had recently received a tip on the whereabouts of his location. They went in for the bust only to find his latest victim and his naive daughter to tell them he decided to skip town the day before. He left no other trail.
Elliot was surprised that his partner was there. She had been sniffling the day before and was complaining of a headache. She did look pale and aged. In all his years knowing her, she had never gotten sick. He looked down at the trash can beside their desk. It was overflowing with used tissues. He looked up at her. She was engrossed in the files spread out before her and only noticed him when he noisily sighed. Giving him a slight smile, Detective Olivia Benson returned to her files. He shrugged his shoulders and lost himself in his own papers.
Twenty minutes later, a rather flustered looking Detective Odafin Tutuola came jogging in. He was nearly an hour late to work, but New York morning traffic was horrid. He noted that his patner hadn't arrived yet. He locked his leather jacket in his locker on his way to the coffee machine. He was disappointed, however, to find that no one had made any fresh coffee and that the nasty mud his patner tried to pass off as coffee was still there from the day before. He decided that caffeine was caffeine and reluctantly poured the chunky substance into his mug.
Olivia was watching was leaned over to thank Elliot again for bringing her a fresh brewed cup that morning. She was feeling really bad. Her head felt like it was splitting in half, she couldn't breathe through her nose, and she was still terribly congested, despite the painkillers she was doped up on. She did have to admit that she didn't get sick often and she should probably be home nursing herself back to health, but, far be it from her to take off for a little flu. She noticed that Elliot hadn't answered and looked up to see that his face was sullen and started to ask about the wife and kids.
"Boy oh boy, I can't wait to hear about this one!" Fin's exclamation caught the attention of everyone. All heads turned to see Detective John Munch stroll into the squadroom, donning elbow high gloves, a surgical mask with a matching scrubs that nearly swept the floor. Everyone was quiet for a moment as John made his way to his desk. It was Olivia that broke the silence.
"John, what the hell are you wearing?" she demanded, almost embarassed for him. She had known him to do and wear things that other people would be embarassed to think about, but this was new.
"I'm simply protecting myself from whatever you have," he responded. "Think about it. You never get sick. When you do, I think we all should be worried. There have been reports released on the latest disease outbreaks. They all have been linked to the government. You name it: anthrax, the bird flu, smallpox, polio, PMS..." By now, everyone had tuned out as he launched into yet another government conspiracy. The only difference this time was that he sounded almost fearful. Olivia picked up on this and, had anyone been paying attention, they would have seen the mischief consume her eyes.
John was still rambilng on when Olivia suddenly turned, quickly grabbed a handful of tissues, lurched forward toward John, and released a tremendous sneeze that caused her entire body to shake. When she leaned back, everyone could see a mucus like substance, which had completely missed the tissue she was clutching, settle on John's smock. The room quieted as he let out a high pitched scream and ran from the room, trying to pull the material from his body. Everyone stared after him in awe with the exception of Olivia, who had her head thrown back and was guffawing loudly.
It was then that a confused Captain Cragen walked into the squadroom. He looked at his detectives then turned back to the hallway to see a shirtless John running past, screaming. He hadn't had that much Kool-Aid to drink last night and surely he was still suffering from this morning's breakfast of cold pizza. He thought perhaps he was dreaming. He decided there was only one way to find out, although he was sure he wanted to know the answer.
"Does anyone want to tell me why John is running through the halls screaming like a schoolgirl?" he asked. Everyone shrugged but no one noticed Olivia stuffing the bright yellow silly string she had cleverly hidden in the tissues she had "sneezed" into back into her desk.
END