"Who is he?" Doug asked as soon as Judy walked into Jump Street Chapel Tuesday morning. He and Tom were waiting for her at her station, Doug standing with his arms crossed and Tom sitting on the desk with his feet in the chair. They both had identical looks of scolding on their faces.
Judy couldn't help but crack a smile at their outfits. Tom wore a bandana around his head, with rags for clothes and more than a hint of 5-o-clock shadow. Doug was dressed simlarly, but instead of any headdress, his mullet was pulled back into ponytail behind his head. The two of them looked absolutely ridiculous.
"The McQuaids?...Again?" she asked incredulously as she walked over and set her bag next to the younger of the two brothers.
Tom raised a finger, ignoring the question. "Don't try to change the subject, young lady," he said sternly.
Judy looked from one to the other and sighed. "Okay, I give in. What are you two talking about?"
"Like you don't know," Doug replied, narrowing his eyes.
Tom cleared his throat as if preparing to give a performance, holding a post-it note like a script in front of him. "Judy, I had fun last night, let's do it again real soon. Dick." He added his own derogatory voice effect, making the content of the note seem even more ridiculous.
"You read my messages?!? And his name is Jack, not Dick," she said, tearing the paper from Tom's hand and reading it herself.
"He sounded like a 'Dick'," Tom muttered, earning him a backhanded slap in the shoulder.
"Well, when you didn't show up for work two hours ago, we got worried and needed to know if you were okay," Doug whined, and he and Tom both stuck out their bottom lips in a pout, Tom still rubbing his arm.
"Oh, bull. Besides, I don't believe it's any of your business," she countered, slapping the sticky note onto Doug's forehead and rolling the chair out from Tom's feet. This took him by surprise, and he lost his balance on the desk, crashing to the floor ungracefully.
Judy pretended not to notice him as she sat and scooted her chair past him to her desk. Doug helped his partner up, and there was a flicker of hope in Judy's mind that their injured pride would prevent any further badgering. Of course it wouldn't.
Doug wondered exactly why Judy was being so defensive about this guy. Neither him nor Tom (that he knew of) had heard anything about a Jack before today, so it couldn't have been too serious or there would have been evidence, like previous phone calls or flowers or song grams...Something!
Tom seemed altogether uninjured by his fall, but his face was red with embarrassment.
"I don't see anything wrong with being concerned about a fellow officer, Detective," Doug said coldly, using the title to impersonalize the situation.
Judy paused at his tone to look at them, and their hurt must have been evident in their faces, because she sighed in frustration and slammed the folder she was looking through down onto her desk. "Look, I don't have time for your jealousy," she raised a finger to stop Tom's protest, "...or whatever it may be. I appreciate the concern, boys, but Fuller knew where I was and he gave me a few hours off to-"
Doug was right behind Tom as they pushed through the chapel to the Captain's office.
Tom pushed through the door without knocking, which he immediately regretted.
Fuller glared from behind his desk at the young officer, but the pair of eyes that bore the deepest hole in him were those of the man sitting in front of the Captain's desk.
Doug followed Tom in, not pausing to look around as he began his rant about never getting "a couple extra hours off in the morning for a killer hangover, but Hoffs gets time off for a sleepover!"
Tom elbowed his partner in the side, whose anger at being interrupted quickly gave way to a solemn silence as he too saw who was with them.
Fuller, satisfied that both of his officers were now aware of the company, stood and motioned at the man. "Hanson, Penhall, you both remember Mr. Bill Weckerly."