Author's Note: Got to hang out recently with some friends I first met online. It was actually at a Transformers convention, but among the group of us, there were a lot of Brave Police fun-times too. During one late-night conversation, things turned to something along the lines of "wouldn't it be hilarious if-". I told them I'd totally write that fic . . . and on the flight home, I did just that! I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it.

Disclaimer – "Brave Police J-Decker" and all related characters, events, and concepts belong to Sunrise, Nagoya TV, and any other related owners/distributors/producers. I get no monetary benefit from this. My benefit is the enjoyment of dealing with beloved characters.

"And Ye Shall Receive"
by DragonDancer5150

McCrane only nodded when Dumpson stood from his desk, saying he'd be right back, that he'd remembered the anecdote he'd wanted to share with Hashiba-san, the head of the team dedicated to Dumpson's repairs and maintenance, regarding what Dumpson and some of the guys on his maintenance team had been up to last night before the humans had left for home. All of Chief Toudou's talented engineers could work on any of the Braves, and frequently switched around as needed to cover people out sick or on vacation or, as was most frequently the case, when one or more of the robot detectives were so badly damaged (McCrane secretly appreciated that every last engineer in Toudou's department preferred "injured") that they needed more hands on deck to get the Braves in question back on their feet quickly. But while the men under Toudou were capable of interchanging their duties when needed, they primarily worked in set teams – eight in all, each team specializing in the various systems distinct to the Brave entrusted into its members' care.

At heart, the BP units appreciated and were thankful for their engineers who kept them running and, more times than McCrane cared to count, even pulled all-nighters in the maintenance bay after a particularly vicious battle had left half or more of the team nearly non-functional. That didn't, however, keep many – most – of the Braves from giving their teams as much of a hard time as they gave each other. All in good fun, of course. And the engineers gave as good as they got.

The musing thoughts flashed through McCrane's computer processor of a brain in mere fractions of a second before he returned his attention in full to the case report he'd been reviewing – he hadn't even looked up at Dumpson as his teammate left. He only registered hearing the door to the hallway slide open once and wondered if Dumpson had changed his mind when he saw and heard the body plop into the chair across from him not even a full minute later. It took another second to realize that he was pretty sure the color he'd caught over the top edge of his file, before it disappeared downward, had been green instead of red. Lowering the case file, he startled to find himself staring at the top of a round, white helmet, one green arm folded under it, the other flopped out in McCrane's general direction. "Gunmax?" A muted groan was his only response. "Are you all right?" He checked his internal chronometer and realized that Gunmax's patrol shift had ended well over an hour ago. Why had he only now returned to the Decker Room? And if there'd been a problem, why hadn't he called for back-up?

"M'fine," came the muffled reply from somewhere under the helmet. "Just . . . uh, tired."

Tired enough, among anything else going on, that he hadn't noticed he'd sat down at the wrong desk? McCrane frowned. "Did you forget to fuel this morning before you left?" He hadn't heard any of Gunmax's team commenting this morning on unusual readings from his recharge cycle. Gunmax hadn't complained about anything either.

"No, not that." Gunmax shifted, seeming to hesitate, then his helmet tucked a bit in what McCrane would have sworn was embarrassment. "McCrane, will you . . . go get Gunbike for me?" He shifted again. "Please?"

McCrane finally laid the case file down on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What did Power Joe do this time?"

That got a half-startled snerk out of the Motorcycle Detective. "For once? Nothing."

McCrane studied his teammate another instant, then a faint grin tugged at his lips. "Whatever it is, you did it to yourself, didn't you?"

The way Gunmax's shoulders hunched told him he was right. "No," the other asserted emphatically, but with just enough initial hesitation to suggest he'd still brought it on himself one way or another.

McCrane just folded his hands and stared at the top of Gunmax's helmet.

The silence stretched on a moment longer before Gunmax finally shifted to peek up at McCrane. He huffed and sat up. "Okay, okay, so maybe I did get a little too-" McCrane didn't know the English word the biker cop tossed in but suspected it was something along the lines of 'mouthy'. "-messing around with the guys this morning. I swear Sanada-san got up on the wrong side of the bed."

'The guys' in this case, McCrane knew, were Gunmax's maintenance team. Sanada was the team's head. McCrane remembered listening to the ruckus from across the maintenance bay. His knowing grin grew a little. "You wouldn't knock it off when he told you to. What did he do?"

"He said he'd make sure I had to walk all the way back after my shift. I didn't think he'd actually do it!"

McCrane chuckled and pushed his chair back to stand. "Where is Gunbike now?"

Gunmax leaned back and folded his arms. "She's on the edge of Daimon City, in the parking lot of that big market on Taikagawa."

McCrane felt his browridge go up in surprise. That was a long walk, even for a six-meter-tall robot. "All right. I should be back soon. Let Deckard and Boss know when they get in from their patrol?"

Gunmax grimaced at having to tell anyone, but to his credit, he just nodded.

McCrane started for the door but paused when Gunmax called after him. "Hey! Take a gas can with you, will ya?"