2) Inaugural Day
Mac walked into his office and saw a small gift sitting on his desk. Next to it a note with a key sitting on top of it. Mac hung his coat on the coat rack and walked over to his desk, picking up the note:
'Finally found the key to the door you were asking about. I checked it, it hasn't been opened in years, but here's the key anyway. Let me know if you found any problems. I changed out the light bulb in the sign, too. Ron'
He would surprise Adam at lunch with the key to the exit. He'd never tell anyone, but he was anxious to start cleaning up the room and get this started.
Mac sat the key aside and unwrapped the gift. Inside he found a key attached to a keychain with a small grinning, plastic monkey dangling at the end, and a note. The note simply read: Pineapple. And after years of reading her handwriting, he knew it was Stella that had written the note.
"So I guess you really do know what this is about."
Mac looked up. Hawkes stood just inside his office holding an identical keychain and a piece of paper. He unfolded the paper, reading to Mac, "Pineapple. See Mac for details. Tell no one." Hawkes looked up at him. "And it's Stella's handwriting. So what's this about?"
"Sheldon, were you ever in any clubs?"
"Band and Drama in high school. Nothing since. Why?"
"Meet me in records after your shift. We'll talk."
"Which side?"
"Outside the elevator."
"And what is this for?" Hawkes held up the key.
Mac smiled. "A clubhouse. Go get to work."
Hawkes started to question the answer.
"Work now. We'll talk later," Mac told him.
While it made Hawkes frown, he left, passing Lindsay on the way in with her own monkey key and note. He suspected he'd be talking to everyone they'd nominated to the crew today.
#
The elevator doors opened and the group greeted Mac. He hadn't expected them all to make it ahead of him. He noticed Stella and Adam were missing and wondered if they were waiting in the room, or still on their way. Mac stepped off the elevator.
"Thank you for coming," Mac started and didn't get any further.
"Why are we here?" Sid asked. "What's going on?"
"I have plans tonight, Mac. Is this going to take long?" Flack asked.
Danny was probably the least annoyed, but he asked the golden question, "We were told not to tell anyone about these keys." Danny held his key up. "But we all have the same key – we checked – and the same key ring. Sheldon said it was for a clubhouse. What the heck does that mean?"
Mac looked down the hall when Stella stepped out of the room and leaned back against the door with her arms crossed. She smiled.
"Have you guys ever been in a secret club?" Mac asked them. "Think back to when you were kids. Were you ever in a secret club?"
Minutes passed before Sid and the men admitted they had been, but Rita and Lindsay kept silent. Mac moved on.
Mac held up his key, letting the monkey dangle before them. He watched it swing while he spoke.
"Things haven't been easy around here. Tough, actually, with the staff cuts and the failing economy a breeding ground for crime." Mac snapped the keychain in his hand, looking at them. "And we aren't as efficient as we should be because we're all stressed. I can't speak for Rita, but we need to do something about that stress. A group activity."
"So this is group therapy?" Flack asked.
"Not… Really."
"Then what really is it?" Danny asked.
"Adam's cousin gave him an excellent idea for a team building exercise. We're going to use it. Follow me."
"Maaaaaac!" Lindsay whined.
He ignored her. He knew what was waiting at the end of the hall. He and Stella had spent their lunch planning the best way to start The Wall.
With a lot of muttering, mostly from Sid and Rita who kept telling Mac they weren't even CSI, the group followed him to the end of the hall. Stella disappeared back into the room before the got there. Mac stood at the door, waiting for them to come in before shutting it. He paused, swinging the door back and forth.
"When did this get fixed?"
"Adam and I came down here earlier to fix it," Stella said.
Mac shut it and turned. There was an old wooden table sitting in the middle of the room and old wooden chairs sat around it. Adam was sitting on the end of the table, and Stella had taken a seat. Mac glanced up at the light bulb. On his first break, he'd come down and changed it out. It revealed that the other side of the room had a pool of water from a steady stream that ran out of the wall, just under the ceiling. The pool drained through a crack in the floor. A light green moss grew around the edges where the water seepage ended. Just to be on the safe side, Mac had taken water samples, and some scrapings off the wall. The water was a little high in calcium and bacteria – not recommended for drinking, but otherwise harmless.
Mac noticed the five were looking at the blown up pictures Adam had hung around the room – they hadn't noticed the list yet.
"This is the reason you're here." He waited till they were all looking at him to point at the list.
He waited, giving the time to read the rules, and processes what this meant.
"I don't get it," Sid said. "I didn't write that."
"Me neither," Flack and Danny added.
Lindsay, on the other hand, grinned because she understood.
"So… we put rules up there for things we shouldn't do anymore, right? Like Adam flying airplanes and getting excited about that sex doll?"
"Yes. What are the rules about the rules, Adam?"
"Once a rule is added you can't do that thing anymore. Mostly."
"Mostly?" Rita asked.
"Well… you can't ever do what you did that made you write the rules. But in some might be bent."
"Some," Mac stressed.
Mac fished five piece of chalk out and held them up to the five. Lindsay took one, looking at it. She looked at Adam.
"Do we have to use white chalk?"
"It's all we have."
"Yes, but in the future do we have to?" She held up her key. "Since I'm assuming that's why we all have the same key, so we can come in whenever."
"Why not?" Adam asked Mac.
He shrugged.
"You got docked pay, Mac?" Danny asked.
Mac looked down, resisting the embarrassed smile. It was the first thing that had come to mind.
"Wait. We can't write on these walls," Lindsay said.
"No. It's okay. It's just chalk," Stella assured her.
"I mean, we can't write on the walls like they are. We should paint them." She looked at a photograph near her. "Where is this place in these pictures?"
"That's The Wall at my cousin's police station."
"The Wall?" Flack asked him.
"That's what they call it. We don't have to call it that."
"No. We can call it that. Sounds very secret club like."
"And they have a secret word to let the others know to meet at the wall. Pineapple."
"Pineapple?" Danny asked. "Really?"
"We could do something else."
"Like what?" Stella asked.
There was no answer.
"Mac?" Flack asked. "Any ideas?"
"I'm okay with pineapple, actually."
"So do you have to use it in a sentence or something?" Rita asked.
"No. Just walk up to a member, tell them pineapple, leave," Adam answered. "They pass it on to another member and so on. Then everyone knows by the time the shift is over. Simple is better."
Lindsay chuckled. "We'd better hope no one thinks we're all crazy when they overhear that."
"Sorry to break it to you, Linds, but people already think you CSI are crazy," Rita told her.
Danny moved over to another photo. "They have a refrigerator in theirs?"
"A small one. And beer. But… Mac said no."
The five looked at Mac in stern silence.
"No beer," he said.
They didn't look way or speak.
"We are on police property.
They didn't look away. Mac glanced at Stella.
She looked away, muttering, "Told you that wouldn't go over well."
Mac looked at the five. "If you get caught with beer on the property you'll be fired."
"If we get caught, then we aren't very good at keeping our secret club a secret, are we?" Rita pointed out. "And as for you CSI, you should be fired if you can't cover your own tracks!"
"Oh really?" Danny asked her as he turned to her.
"Oh really."
"You get all full of piss and vinegar when you get away from that desk."
"Hey, I clock out, I can behave however I want, buddy. Don't you forget it."
Adam laughed.
Danny shot him a glare. "Don't encourage her."
Adam stopped laughing. "I was just… She just… Reminded me…"
"Reminded you of what?" Rita pressed.
"Of Gina."
"Who's Gina?"
"The receptionist at the Las Vegas Police Department."
Lindsay slowly turned to him, staring at him.
"Your cousin works for the Las Vegas Police Department?"
"Yeah. He's a CSI."
"Your cousin is a CSI?"
"Yeah."
"Since when?" Danny asked. "I thought he was a lab tech."
"That was like a year ago. He's a CSI now."
"Any good?"
"Well… He hasn't been fired. I guess that's a good sign."
Danny shrugged his face, turning back to the pictures. "And they gotta room just like this at their place, huh?"
"Yes. But only a few people know about it. He's one of them."
Danny nodded without comment. He walked to the other side, to look at the photographs.
"We have to paint the walls. That light bulb is the only light. It feels like a dungeon in here," Lindsay told them.
"All in favor of painting The Wall, raise your hand," Stella said.
They all raised their hands.
"All in favor of being the one to actually paint the wall," Mac amended.
Lindsay and Adam held up their hands.
"Alright. So we'll have to hold off on the rules until the wall's painted."
Mac dug in his pocket and dropped a pile of keys next to Adam. "These keys go to the exit right outside the door. How you get stuff down here will give you something to do on your next day off."
Danny turned. "Why can't we use the elevator?"
"Would sorta defeat the whole secret part, don't'cha think?" Flack asked him.
Danny nodded, turning back to the photographs.
"What color should we paint the walls?" Adam asked.
"You two decide. That's your project," Rita said. She looked at her watch. "Okay, this was actually fun, but I have to pick up my son. Bye." And she was gone before they could even respond.
"I'm going to get hell for being late to my date, so I'll see everyone later," Flack said, following her out.
The group slowly disappeared, leaving Adam, Mac, and Lindsay.
"You two have this weekend off. Think you'll have it done before then?" Mac asked.
"We should," Lindsay said. "Do we know if that water's safe?"
"Yes. I tested it. And the moss."
"Thank you," Lindsay told him.
"See you two tomorrow."
"Mac, thanks for letting Adam keep this idea. This will be fun."
Mac nodded and left.
"So…" Adam started.
"Saturday morning, nine o'clock, Home Depot on 22nd."
"I'll be there."
Lindsay looked around the room as she left. "Lots of potential here. See you Saturday."
Adam nodded. As soon as the door closed he grinned.
#
Lindsay walked up to Mac, looking at the pieces of paper he was lying out.
"Finally got them dry?"
"Yes. They have a lot of cotton in them."
"Fine paper. That should narrow things down."
"I hope so. Did you need something?"
"Pineapple." Lindsay walked away.
Mac looked up, watching her walk away. He looked at Hawkes on the opposite side of the table. He was staring at Mac with a grin.
"You heard the woman," Mac told him.
Hawkes grinned. "As soon as I'm done here, I'll take care of that."
Mac re-focused on his work, but he was anxious now. Lindsay told him that Adam and she couldn't finish as soon as they had hoped. When they weren't finished by Wednesday he checked it out while everyone was in the field. What he found was a painted room, and a pile of building supplies. Something was being constructed around the pool, and they had converted the single bulb into two rows of lights. He decided to give them time to finish whatever they were doing, because it had significantly improved the working relationship between Lindsay and Adam. After a week, Adam didn't act so nervous around her. Two weeks and he even greeted her with the type of smile that spoke volumes of their friendship – something he still didn't give Mac even after he'd been allowed to start The Wall.
#
It was as if some internal clock went off. The Wall Crew clocked out and headed to the elevator at the same time. They noticed Adam, Lindsay, and Stella were missing from the group. Fate put them all in the same car, at the same time, effectively keeping anyone else from riding in it with them. No one spoke about their destination until the elevator doors were closed and they were walking down the hall.
"It's been two weeks. What do you think those two did to that place?" Flack asked.
"We're about to find out. Whatever it is, you'll like it."
"I will?"
"Yes."
Opening the door let them into another world they weren't expecting. The missing Crew members were waiting for them. The wall had been painted a burnt orange color with brown streaks that made it look like the paint had run. Most people would have passed on the color and technique, but in here it worked.
The light bulb had been replaced with a unique lantern that actually gave out more light. The two had uncovered a window that had been hidden by the dim light and years of dirt and filth. Surprisingly, the glass in the window was stained glass and lead outlines in the shape of the state flower: a red rose. While the window would never get full sunlight with the high-rise building across the street, Mac imagined that the original building had, and the colors must have exploded into this room in the early morning sunlight. Over the window they had uncovered decorative masonry that moss and grime had hidden.
The most astonishing change was the puddle of water. A small waterfall had been created from the water running down the wall. The sculpture that created it used glass and stone to create an amazing piece that glittered as the water caught flecks of light. The water fell into a reflective pool at the bottom that was now surrounded by a low wall topped with ceramic tiles. The back of the fountain had been lined with tiles, with the edges broken off and smoothed.
The chair and tables had all been stripped and then stained and varnished. They were sat on a mismatch of area rugs that were clean, but had had seen far better days.
Mac didn't even want to know how they'd managed to get the green velvet settee into the basement, but it sat against the wall, along with two recliners on either side. On the opposite side, away from the water, was a microwave stand with a beat-up, worse for wear microwave. Next to it was a child's desk. On top was a small, widescreen TV, and underneath the desk was a mini-refrigerator just as beat-up as the microwave. Through a crack in the ceiling hung a coaxial cable, hidden by a hanging plant with long vines. Leaning against the desk was an old wooden librarian step stool.
"Oh my God!" Danny said. "It's… It's…
"Just the best break room ever!" Rita said. "You two worked your asses off!"
"That coax…" Mac started. "Where does it go to?"
"The cable going into the lab," Adam told him. After a moment he quickly added, "I didn't hurt anything, I swear! I found a splitter with an open jack. We're good."
Mac didn't argue. He trusted Adam enough not to.
"Here is the chalk," Lindsay said, opening a drawer on the desk. It was full of colored chalk in various sizes. She turned to the group. "Okay. So how does this work?"
It took a few minutes for all eyes to turn to Adam, and another minute for him to realize they were all waiting for him to answer the question.
"O-oh. You… Don't know that part. Right. Uhm." Adam walked over to the desk and selected a piece of chalk. "Need chalk."
Mac resisted smiling. Adam was not used to leading anyone for anything – this was actually good for him, even if he didn't realize it.
Adam picked up the step stool and walked over to the wall. Mac noticed that the rules had been re-written in his handwriting, but he'd added Mac and Stella's names after their rules. Adam climbed up and printed:
8. My supervisor doesn't care why I'm carrying around a case of corndogs and condiments.
Adam slowly climbed down, turning to them. "So… That happened a month ago."
"I was curious, just not then. So now tell me why you were carrying a case of corndogs and condiments."
"Kendall needed them for some picnic she was going to. I just kept getting stopped to do all sorts of other things."
The room was silent when he finished.
"Not a funny story. Let me try again." And like a nervous cat slinking past a dog, he climbed up and added:
9. The suspect's computer is not the hub of Skynet. The loud blaring coming from it is not signaling Judgment Day.s
Adam climbed down again. "So… Danny brought me this computer and it was a real… really hard to crack the password. And when I did, it started blaring an alarm."
Danny started laughing. "I remember that! That was last year. You started crying out 'Judgment day! Judgment day' and I thought you were talking about some virus."
Adam kind of smiled. "Yeah. And then you came back the next day and told me it wasn't the Skynet hub."
"It took me that long to figure out you were yanking my chain about it. That and watching T3. I remember that now."
Adam nodded, moving away. "So that's how you do it. You write a rule and if it's gotta good story, you tell us what it is."
"Oh yeah?" Flack asked. "Then I got one." He took Adam's chalk and without the step stool added under Adam's rule:
10. Trees will swallow your bullets but allow the suspect to shoot without a miss.
"So here's the story. Angel and me were at this shootout at the Central Park, right? A dozen cops, three robbery suspects. They're shooting, we're shooting. On our side, bullets are flying everywhere. Finally a sniper takes them down. We go over to secure the scene. Not a single bullet hit them. But you remember this one Mac? You found nearly all of our bullets in trees and bushes, and nearly all of their bullets in our cars or vests!"
Mac nodded, smiling. "I do remember that. And you said… You said, 'Maybe we should arrest the trees for aiding and abetting.'"
Flack grinned with a nod. "I swear they were helping those guys. Craziest thing I'd ever seen."
"Oh! I have one." Rita said, prancing up to Flack. "Only because I hear you big bad cops whine about it all the time."
Flack resisted giving her the chalk. "In that case, I forbid you to write it up there."
"Scared?" Rita taunted.
"Of you?"
"Yes."
"Not even close." Flack let the chalk go.
11. Morals and crowds never agree.
"That's funny?" Flack asked.
"No kidding. How is that funny?" Lindsay asked.
Rita turned to them. "Because the cops are always whining that if the crowd had morals, they'd use all their vacation time. The big, bad, tough, cops wouldn't whine about the tear gas that doesn't go toward the crowd. So, for me, it's really funny. I get to listen to it allllll the time."
"Who let you in here anyway?" Flack demanded
"Am I annoying you yet?"
"Like a bad rash."
She grinned, giving his cheek a pinch. "Yes, but since I'm old enough to be your mom, you have to respect me regardless."
"Ha!"
The two laughed, letting on that their argument was just a game between them. Flack gave her a gentle shove away from him.
"Away with you, woman. You gave me an idea for another rule and you're cramping my style. Danny, toss me that blue chalk."
Danny picked one out and tossed it to Flack. He wrote:
12. Bullet proof vests do nothing for the groin.
13. Tear gas doesn't care that you're downwind.
"Are those even acceptable?" Stella asked. "As rules, I mean?"
It wasn't until all eyes were on Adam (again) that he realized they were expecting him to answer that question.
"Uhm… Sure."
Mac watched the Wall Crew take seats, starting to relax into their secret room. He took a seat on a chair behind Stella, waiting for inspiration to hit him.
"Is that a yes?" Flack asked.
"Yes. Sure. If you shouldn't do it again, it makes sense. Doesn't it? Don't you all think?"
"Makes sense to me," Danny said. He held his hand out to Flack. "Okay. Let me give this a whirl."
Danny wrote:
14. The probability of wrapping up a case decreases proportionally to the time elapsed since last you went to the restroom.
"Eh? Huh? Huh? What'cha all think about that one?"
"If it weren't so flippin' true it might be funnier," Lindsay commented. "Now, I have one that came from Montana, guys."
She held out her hand and Danny dropped the chalk in it. She wrote:
15. I will not attempt to use luminol to stop a fleeing suspect.
"Now, was this your personal experience?" Hawkes asked. "Or experience from someone else?"
Lindsay turned, wearing a tight smile. "That, I shall never tell."
The room booed her.
"A good story. Come on. We want a good story," Stella insisted.
The boos changed to chanting, "Good story."
"Alright! Alright. I'll tell the story. Everyone gotta good seat?"
After a muttered 'yes,' she started with, "Right after I'd transferred to the investigation division, I went into this house with my partner to process a crime scene." Lindsay sat down on the stool. "The house was cleared by the patrol officers and they said that they'd checked everywhere. But they missed this giant trunk in a bedroom. So I'm in the living room, my partner, she's in the bedroom. I hear all this commotion, she screams 'suspect!' and I turn around. Here he comes, madder than hell, with a gun. My sidearm was in the holster, strapped, I couldn't get to it. All I had was a spray bottle of luminol I'd just mixed up. So I started spraying! Two things came of that – the first is we found blood he'd tried washing off all over his face, which did convict him. Two, I ended up suspended for using 'risky and potentially dangerous means to stop a fleeing suspect, without regard to my safety or his eyesight.' It wasn't pretty."
And as much as they could imagine how un-pretty it was, was the same amount they could both see Lindsay doing it, and how, in the end, it worked.
"Please tell me we won't have to do that again," Mac told her.
She motioned overhead. "Nope. Can't. It is written."
"I have one that I've been in trouble for a few times," Sid said.
She handed the chalk over, asking, "You've gotten in trouble? How old were you when that happened?"
"No don't you go getting sassy on me, Lindsay. Or your next corpse may take a long, long time to process."
She laughed, stepping out of his way.
Sid added:
16. I am not allowed to paint in the morgue, even if it does have 'excellent lighting' and 'willing models that will work for free.'
To their surprise, Mac started laughing. And it intensified to tears while provoking the others to join him. Sid shrugged.
"You still do that?" Mac asked.
"Well… I hide it better these days."
"You paint?" Hawkes asked.
"I hide it better these day."
"You paint in the morgue?" Danny asked. "What exactly do you paint?"
"Well… I need faces for my paintings and I have many to choose from, usually."
"This is a very scary side of you I now wish I could erase from memory."
Sid smiled. "Who's next?"
Mac got up, taking it. "I've thought of several. Any objections if I write them all?"
"Write away. We love to see what you've gotten yourselves into."
Mac looked back at him. "Unfortunately, Danny, you're better at that than I am." Mac added:
17. Your supervisor doesn't care why you're carrying a roll of duct tape, a can of spray paint, and a huge roll of waxed paper, in your field kit.
18. I am to resist uttering pointless, unrelated trivial facts while processing a crime scene.
19. I may not co-conspire with a co-worker to help them get a day off by claiming there's a bomb threat on their house.
20. When dealing with civilians, if something said in the heat of the moment felt good, it was wrong.
21. Like police, CSI are everyone's friend until they're the suspect and the evidence implicates them in a crime.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Danny said, shaking his head. "Now you gotta take down number 17. I had a very perfect and valid reason to have all that stuff in my kit."
Mac sat on the stool, watching him with a stern look. "Like?"
"Like… Well."
Mac held his expression for a few more seconds, and then smiled. "Like?"
Danny shrugged. "Okay. Okay. I was going to tape Flack's door shut and then spray something mean on the paper."
"What!?" Flack asked.
"You were bashing on my team. I had to get even."
"It's a good thing you didn't do it. I would have flattened you out!"
"Mac took it. I didn't get the chance."
"Thank you Mac."
"I didn't do it for you. After all, you are the one that told me how good it felt to tell off that annoying drug dealer, and then we ended up getting shot at."
"Me? I didn't do that. I'd never do that."
"You are not as innocent as you've deluded yourself to be," Sid told him.
"Why is everyone picking on me? What I do?"
"Setting yourself up as an easy target?" Adam suggested.
Flack turned a glare on him, which immediately made Adam lose his smile. But then Flack smiled and shook his head and it returned.
"So who was the co-conspirator?" Lindsay asked. "As if I really need to ask."
"No. You really don't. The two guilty ones are present."
"There was a bomb threat on his house," Danny told him. "I swear there was."
"Monkeys don't fly very well," Stella told him. "And you lie even worse, Danny."
"So who utters useless information at crime scenes?" Rita asked him.
Mac leaned to the side, looking right at Hawkes. "I won't ever play Trivia Pursuit with him, either. When he gets to concentrating, things just spout out."
"Useless, pointless, things," Lindsay added. "Things that only an encyclopedia should know."
"I am not that bad."
"You're that bad," the CSI and Sid told him.
"I'm really that bad?"
"Yes," was the unison reply.
"And even worse when you're riding back in the car with me and writing notes," Flack added.
"I am not that bad. No way."
"Yes way."
Hawkes walked up to him. "Ooo. For that, you're going to pay Don. I need a piece of chalk."
"What are you writing?"
Mac moved out of the way, handing over the chalk. Hawkes added:
22. If the police had no resistance when clearing a room or residence, you can bet your evidence will prove they kicked down the wrong door.
"I have never done that. Not once."
"Never?" Danny asked.
"Never."
"Ever?" Stella asked.
"Ever. I have never done that."
"Never, ever?' Lindsay asked.
Flack looked at them. "No. Not… Really. Ever."
"How did the conversation go," Mac started. "I recall now. 'Mac, I swear that was the address I was given.' And so I look at the address you were given. And then I give it back to you, and turn it around, all of a sudden your all capital 131 PERNELI, became 113 NERPELL, and definitely the wrong door. I always know when I get notes from Flack; he never writes the 3 as a 3, it always comes out E."
"I don't think I like you much, Mac. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure I don't like you much, Mac."
They laughed.
"I have a rule. Well, more like an axiom, but, well, we can bend them a little, right?" Adam asked.
"This is your game, we're just here to play," Lindsay told him. "And so far, I'm rather fond of your game."
Adam smiled, waiting for Hawkes to move out of his way. He added:
23. Computers never think as quickly as their human counterparts can curse.
"Isn't that so true?" Rita said. "And the faster I curse, the slower it works."
"I hear ya there," Stella added. "And if you need the results five minutes ago, it takes twenty."
"You know, they say that's not really the computer. That's the user," Adam told her.
Stella raised her eyebrow, wiping his smiles away. "Adam, you are getting a lump of coal for Christmas."
With all his naivety and innocence he asked, "Really?"
She laughed. "No!"
"I have another one I just thought of," Lindsay said.
Adam climbed down and handed over his chalk. She added:
24. The day you use that device that uses radio waves outside, and need it to work flawlessly, is the same day with the most sunspot activity.
"You tried using the digital nose, didn't you?" Mac asked.
"Yes. The most sunspots all year. It didn't work. I should have known."
Mac chuckled at the thought of how frustrated she must have become. He kept his observations of his team well hidden, including how cute Lindsay's tantrums were. She would get all flushed, and then she'd start calling the object of her frustration 'sugar.' And if she knew she was in the presence of anyone, she's start spouting off 'sugar' like everyone else spouted off other curse words. He knew a tantrum shouldn't make his day, but her's always did. Perhaps that was why he found it so easy to calm her and get her focused again.
"Well, kids, this was fun, but I have to leave," Rita said, glancing at her watch. "Good night fellow Wall Crew. See everyone tomorrow!"
They wished her a good night.
"Anyone want pizza?" Sid asked. "My treat."
"You think I'd pass up free food?" Danny asked.
The group headed for the door, not noticing Adam was staying behind. He picked up the step stool and sat it next to the desk, and then picked up the chalk left round the room and put it back in the desk. Adam walked over to the pool, staring into the water.
"Lindsay didn't make that, did she?"
Adam turned, finding Mac leaning against the door jam. He was staring at the pool. Adam smiled in his nervous way.
"No. She helped with everything else though. She's very crafty. In a good way, not a, you know, bad way. Or anything."
Mac smiled, nodding. "So are you."
The compliment only elicited a nervous smile.
"You aren't joining us for pizza?"
"Oh. I… I didn't think…"
"You were invited?"
Adam nodded a little.
Mac stood up. "You were. I'll wait out front for ten minutes, then I'm leaving." Mac turned and walked out of the room.
Adam hesitated. He suddenly jogged to the door, flicked off the light and locked the door. He hurried down the hall, noticing Mac holding the elevator door and waiting. He and Mac stepped on and Mac tapped the first floor button.
"What do you like on your pizza, Adam?"
"Everything. Well, almost everything. I don't like anchovies. Or black olives. I like everything else. Chicken and barbeque sauce is my favorite."
"On a pizza?"
"An Arizona thing."
Mac nodded. "Maybe we'll have to see if they make that at Little Toni's. They have everything else."
The doors opened and the two walked off, heading for the front doors. Mac glanced at the lab tech walking beside him. There were things he considered telling him, praise he thought about giving, but he decided it could wait. It was enough that The Wall had helped Adam accept an invitation from him – something he couldn't imagine Adam ever would have done before today.
At the same time Adam was thinking of telling Mac about something Greg told him about The Wall, something Adam believed would happen with their own Wall. Greg said that The Wall could generate white magic that would form a tight bond among the members of the Wall Crew, and in their darkest hours, just visiting it would spread a soothing balm over their soul to help them move on. But he decided that could wait for another day.
