Disclaimer: I don't own In Plain Sight or any of the characters appearing in this fic!
Author's Note: This is just an odd cracky fic that came to me this morning after a discussion of how difficult a certain character would be to hide. It's completely out there. Enjoy the silliness and don't say I didn't warn you! =P
Don't Follow That Bird
"I just don't see how we're going to do it," Mary sighed, her brow furrowed as she considered their new witness sitting in the conference room. "He's just too difficult to hide."
"We have to try, Mare," Marshall replied. "You know Albuquerque is his last chance. He's been recognized everywhere else they've tried to place him."
"Yeah, well there's obviously a reason for that. He sticks out like a sore thumb!" she waved her hand angrily in the general direction of the witness. Marshall grabbed her hand and pulled it down so her gesture wouldn't be seen by the disconsolate creature in their care.
"It's not his fault, Mary. He's just a little kid."
"Little, my ass," she growled. "He's huge!"
"Have you talked to him yet?" Marshall eyed his partner, who averted her eyes guiltily. "I didn't think so. He's so sweet you wouldn't believe it, and he's very polite, and, get this… he keeps apologizing for being recognized, even though it isn't his fault. He says he just doesn't want to cause anybody any trouble."
"You know what I can't believe?" she snapped back. "I can't believe that a six-foot-tall talking bird even exists, and that's setting aside the fact that it somehow managed to land itself in witness protection."
"Mary… we have to do something. He's been getting moved like once a week," Marshall coaxed as they cast pitying looks through the glass at the big yellow bird, its long beak pointed at the conference table as it heaved a troubled sigh. "He looks so frightened and sad. He needs us, Mare."
"Well… maybe we can paint him blue or something." Mary crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "But what about that big hairy brown thing in there with him? Do we really have to hide that, too?"
"I'm afraid so," Marshall replied, holding out the file for her to read. "It says in here that the brown thing is his imaginary friend, something called a 'Snuffleupagus'."
"Wait - he's imagining that thing?" Mary asked incredulously as she looked on with lurid fascination.
"Yep. It'll just appear wherever he happens to be, and there's nothing we can do about it."
Mary turned to her partner. "If he's imagining this Snuffle-whatever, then why can we see it?"
Marshall shrugged. "Mary, there are some things even I don't know."