Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Law and Order SVU. Honestly, people.
A/N: Yet another Law and Order: SVU fanfic, starring the boys, Munch and Fin! Munch is being bothered by the gavel sound that you hear during major scene changes in the show. This is just the product of my fangirlish mind, dedicated to mi amiga fabulosa and fellow SVU dork, A little bit sonic. It's not the best, but I hope you like it all the same!
It's a Conspiracy
By
Norikio Na No Da
MARCH 9TH
16th District Squad Room
8:42 AM
(DUN DUN)
Detective Munch dropped his coffee mug to the floor, where it smashed into several jagged pieces that skidded every which way across the slick tile.
A moment later, his partner was at his side. "You okay, man?" Fin asked, alarmed.
"Yeah. I just…" Munch pressed the heel of his hand into his eye and took a deep breath. "Did…did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"That—noise. You didn't hear it?"
Fin folded his arms and gave him a long, critical look. "Are you sure you're alright, bro?"
Munch sighed. "Sure. Just a little clumsy today."
"Well, let's find a mop or something and clean that mess up. We've got a lead on the Wallace case downtown."
Wallace Residence
1240 Canterbury Street
9:15 AM
(DUN DUN)
"There!" Munch stopped short in the middle of the street. "Don't tell me you didn't just hear that!"
Fin waited until he reached the curb before turning around and giving his partner an aggravated look. "Hear what, John?"
"I can't believe you're not hearing this. That loud DUN-DUN sound! It's like a gong or, or something." An approaching car blasted its horn at Munch and the veteran detective stepped out of the way, joining his partner on the sidewalk. They resumed walking towards the town house. "It sounds strangely familiar. But then, I've been hearing it all day, so that might be why."
Fin made a "tch" noise and shook his head. "You're turning senile."
"I swear to God, it's there. It's been following me." Munch half-turned while he was walking, as though looking for the source of the mysterious sound over his shoulder.
"Would you get it together, please? We got statements to take. Or do you want the Wallaces calling Cragen and complaining about the crazy detective they got sent to their door?"
Munch glared at him over his glasses, looking as though he was about to make a point. But he apparently decided to save it for another time, because he pressed his lips together tightly and said no more. Together they trotted up the porch steps to the front door of the town house, and knocked.
Office of Donald Cragen
5:23 PM
(DUN DUN)
Munch slammed his fist down on Cragen's desk, making everyone jump. "A gavel!" he shouted. "That's what it is. It's some sort of a weird gavel!"
Elliot and Olivia, and particularly Cragen, who was in the middle of a sentence before the outburst, stared at him in blank shock. Fin just put his head in his hands and sighed.
"…A gavel, John?" said Cragen slowly, cautiously, breaking the silence that had settled over the office.
"Don't even try it, Cap'n," Fin warned him, his voice muffled through his fingers. "He's hearing things."
"Where are you? Show yourself!" John was now standing, turning in a circle on the spot, searching for the offender. "I'm on to you!"
"John," said Olivia, also getting to her feet. "What gavel are you talking about?"
"That loud gavel-ish sound, that DUN-DUN I keep hearing! You heard it too, right, 'Liv?"
"There was no…dun-dun, John." She spoke to him evenly, like he was one of their scared victims that she didn't want to spook. "Are you feeling well?"
"Ahhhh, you people." He stepped back, glaring at her accusingly. "I don't believe you. I think you, you and him—and him and him—" He pointed at Fin, then Elliot, and then Cragen in quick succession. "You're all in on it. Is it a trick you're playing on me? Is this some kind of sick joke? 'John's old, let's mess with his head, pretend not to hear the distinct gavel noises', is that it?"
"John, you're being para—"
"Aha! It's a conspiracy! I knew it, I knew I wasn't crazy. All of you and that gavel sound, you're conspiring against me to—to—I don't even know what! But I'm on to you. Don't think I'm not on to you."
Scowling and shaking his finger in the general direction of the room, Munch slowly moved backwards, opened the door, and ran out of the office. When the door closed behind him, everyone turned to look at Fin. But he just shook his head.
MARCH 10TH
Apartment of John Munch
10:15 PM
(DUN DUN)
Munch winced at the accursed noise and rubbed his temples. "Ugh."
Fin entered the room at that moment, with some pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other. "Head bothering you?" he asked, setting them down on the bedside table and then sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Yeah." Munch smirked. "Killer."
Fin gave him a suspicious look. Of course he was suspicious. Why wouldn't he be? It had taken Munch all day to convince his partner that his previous day's episode had just been the result of a developing fever. He had tried to convince himself, too. But his temperature—which had been 102 that morning—had dropped to 100 and he was still hearing the DUN-DUN at regular intervals. Usually it only happened when he arrived somewhere new that day, but sometimes it happened randomly, like just now, sitting up in bed waiting for his medicine. Fin was being a mother-hen, and Munch decided that being confined to his bed was worth it just to see this unusual and amusing side of his partner.
"Not…hearin' any strange stuff?" Fin said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
"No, I am not hearing any strange stuff," lied Munch. He popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed them along with a gulp of water. "I thought we established that I was over that."
"Good thing, too. I was this close to hauling your crazy ass to the nuthouse."
Munch knew Fin didn't mean it. If he did, he would've hauled him in years ago.
"Want me to stay over?" asked Fin. "In case you need something, I mean."
"Nah, I'm good."
"Yeah, well, I'm staying over anyhow. 'M too tired to drive. If you need me, I'll be watching TV." Fin patted his leg, got up and walked out of the room.
As soon as Fin was gone, Munch let out a long breath and flopped back against the pillows. So the sound was still following him. Maybe it would go away eventually. Maybe not. If it didn't, he would just have to get used to it. That evil gavel noise would not get the best of him, not on his watch.
"You hear that? Not on my watch…" he muttered, and, as the drowsiness from the nighttime medicine took hold, he drifted off to sleep.
(DUN DUN)
FIN