Ed stood on the sidewalk, his hood pulled up against the rain. The Pomeranian at his feet yelped, and the detective rolled his eyes. He had no problem with dogs, but little ones drove him crazy. In his eyes, they served no other purpose than to sit and look pretty.

This particular little dog, however, did serve a higher purpose. He was a part of the costume that hid Detective Green from anyone that might be looking in his direction. At least, Ed hoped it did.

He was staking out the house of Christopher Lamonte, though they weren't after Lamonte in particular. Two hours ago, they had received a tip that the man they were after – Paul Sweeney – was planning to pay Lamonte a visit that very afternoon. And since they had exactly zero leads otherwise, Van Buren had ordered the stakeout. Which somehow led to Ed standing on a sidewalk in the rain, walking a dog he wanted nothing to do with. Perfect.

"Havin' any fun yet, Ed?" Lennie's voice crackled through his earpiece.

The detective rolled his eyes. In most cases, they would have just sat in the car, watching the house. But the neighborhood was too exclusive, and a strange vehicle with two men sitting in it would certainly be noticed.

"You know what, Lennie?" The only reason you ain't out here is because L.T. was afraid your old ass would catch a cold."

"Hey, any excuse works for me. Because I'm in a nice warm car while you're soaking wet."

"Bastard," Ed whispered, an amused smile on his face.

He knew that Briscoe was anything but warm and comfortable. His partner was sitting in their car two blocks away and completely out of sight. Ed had been on enough stakeouts to know that Lennie's legs were probably starting to get restless as he drank a cup of cold coffee.

"Heads up, Ed. Blue Corolla headin' your way. And there's an unsavory character behind the wheel."

"There you go again, makin' snap judgments."

"Didn't I already tell ya? I always pick my books by their cover."

"Which explains why you've been divorced so many times."

Any further banter was suspended as Ed saw the blue Corolla turn onto his road. He kept his head down as he continued walking the dog, keeping watch out of the corner of his eye. Sweeney parked the car outside of Lamonte's house before getting out and moving to the front door.

Ed wasn't sure what exactly gave him away. Maybe a black man walking his dog wasn't that common in that neighborhood. Maybe the suspect was just paranoid. Whatever it was, as Paul Sweeney went to knock on the door, his eyes locked on Ed and he froze. The detective prayed that the guy wasn't spooked, but all of his hopes were shattered when Sweeney suddenly turned and bolted around the house.

"He's running!" Ed yelled, dropping the dog's leash and taking off after him.

It didn't take long for him to realize that the guy was fast. Ed may not have gone to the gym often, but he was pretty fit, and he was already having a hard time catching up with this guy. Running hard, he leaped over hedges and trampled gardens, struggling to keep the suspect in sight.

Slowly, Ed noticed that they had moved into a much richer neighborhood. The houses were bigger, the cars were nicer, and the walls were much higher. When he saw Sweeney slipping over one of those walls, Ed cursed – this guy was definitely going to get it when he caught up to him.

He sped up as he neared the wall, launching himself off of the ground. Despite that, he just barely caught the top of the ledge, and it took some struggling to get the rest of his body up. When he finally did, it was with a sigh of relief that he dropped to the ground on the other side.

That relief didn't last long. As soon as his feet hit the grass, something crashed into him, slamming the rest of him to the ground as well.

"Stay down!" a stern voice commanded.

"Hey, hey! I'm NYPD!" Ed objected.

The voice snorted. "Yeah, I've heard that one before."

The detective was hauled roughly to his feet, and he could finally see who had tackled him. It took ever ounce of self-control to not sigh in frustration when he realized that he'd been caught by someone's security guard. As the man handcuffed him, Ed tried to stay calm.

"I'm tellin' you, man. I'm a cop."

The guard search him, pulling his weapon out of its holster. He even took the backup revolver that Ed kept at his ankle. But he didn't come up with a badge.

"You have got to be kidding me," Ed sighed, realizing he must have dropped his wallet during the chase.

The other man just grinned cruelly. "C'mon. I'm takin' you in for trespassing."

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"Ya know, if I had known today was going to be so interesting…"

Ed lifted his head at the sound of his partner's voice, relief flooding through him. He saw Lennie leaning against the outside of the cell, a friendly smile on his face. Ed couldn't help but chuckle.

"Man, this is the last thing I expected…what took you so long, anyway?"

Lennie shrugged. "I was busy chasing down Sweeney. Didn't know you'd been collared until after."

"Please tell me you caught that little bastard."

"Didn't have to. Idiot ran right out into traffic."

Ed's face fell. "He's dead?"

"No, no. Over at Mercy General. A few cracked ribs and a concussion. He'll be fine just in time for his trial."

"I hope McCoy fries his ass."

"You and me both, partner. Now, are you ready to get out of here or what?"

Ed stood up as the bailiff came over, unlocking the door and letting him out of the cell he had been occupying for the past two hours. Stretching, he looked around.

"What I'd really like is a shot at that rent-a-cop."

Lennie laughed, holding out Ed's badge. "He found this is the neighbor's yard. Asked me to convey his apologies. He swears it was an honest mistake."

"My ass," Ed muttered.

"C'mon. Van Buren is just dying to hear this story."

Ed gave him a pained look as he followed him out of the precinct. "You're joking, right?"

"She said we could all use a good laugh."

Ed just sighed and shook his head.