Although he had his back turned away from Jim, Pete did catch the expression of shock on his partner's face; it was caught on the large side mirror of a small moving truck that was stuck in the middle of the traffic snarl. The intersection was a mix of blaring horns, yelling drivers and pedestrians taking advantage of the stopped traffic. Amongst all that was a well-dressed man who seemed to believe that the drivers would follow his directions. From what Pete saw of the man's technique, he was making matters worse. To his credit, the man quickly gave up once he spotted the officer.
Pete walked, almost unnoticed, into the center of the mess and stood perfectly still. He didn't blow a whistle; he made no overt attempt to direct anyone. All he did was to stand there patiently waiting. Little by little, the horns and the shouting stopped as the drivers noticed the silent policeman in their midst. Once he had their attention, Pete began to wave the lines of traffic through the intersection. The crowd of spectators actually cheered when the traffic started to move smoothly. Some of the drivers waved to the officer in a gesture of thanks. Out of the corner of his eye Pete saw his friend shaking his head in amazement. Jim was good at directing traffic, but Pete definitely was better at it.
Jim made a few attempts to relieve Pete, but the senior officer refused the help; instead telling Jim to co-ordinate with the public works personnel. There was something peaceful about directing traffic successfully. It was the satisfaction of a job well done, but it was more than that. Imposing order on chaos had the effect of calming the mind. It slowed down the officer's thoughts; allowing him to see his problems from a different angle. The annoyances of the morning faded away, mostly. Even as he made up his mind to enjoy the shift, there was a tickle in the back of his mind saying that the day wasn't over yet. A lot could still happen.
Eventually, Jim did force Pete to switch places with a bottle of ice cold water and an admonition about Pete's tendency to get sunburned on a cloudy day. Malloy had accepted a seat in the shade provided by Pop's Newsstand. He kept an eye on Jim while he passed the time talking to "Pop", who told him that Duke wanted him to stop by his restaurant. Chili Cheeseburgers weren't exactly on Pete's diet, but he could suffer them to find out what Duke wanted. For now, it was time to give Jim a rest.
Pete took one step, then two before he heard someone to his right yell "Look Out!". That was all the warning he needed; Pete hit the sidewalk and the traffic light mechanism that was being replaced, barely missed him as it swung from the wire meant to hold it in place. Pete was starting to get to his feet when Jim reached him. He accepted the offered hand and stood, dusting off his uniform. Pete pointed to the now stopped traffic and sent Jim back to working on it. The apologies of the workers were accepted and yet, Pete kept watching the swinging light. Was that a warning; another omen?
"1 Adam-12 Clear. Man Pete, that was close!" Jim was still watching Pete as he drove. "You sure you're not hurt? We can swing by Central Receiving."
"Partner, I'm fine. Let's get back to how my Godson got the best of you this morning." He wanted to avoid Jim's mother hen routine, which now that he thought about it was a bit strange. Had Jim not heard about his car, Mrs. O'Brian and his toe? Or, was he wise enough to not mention it, yet.
Jim launched into the story; He loved talking about his son almost as much as Pete enjoyed hearing them. Of course, Jim didn't know that his friend occasionally gave the boy ideas. There had been that time that he and Jean ran into each other in the grocery store. While Jean was picking out a head of lettuce, Jimmy's loving Godfather showed him how to pull out the orange at the bottom corner of the display. Jimmy squealed in delight as all the oranges rolled onto the floor. Jean was horrified and Pete had to hold his sides from laughing so hard. Jean had told Pete not to laugh because it would encourage her son; little did she know.
Jim hadn't gotten far in the story when Pete swerved and then slammed on the brakes. What Reed didn't see, Pete did. A multi-colored ball had rolled out from between two cars, followed closely by a toddler. The car didn't hit the little boy, but he had fallen down on the pavement. The child's mother picked him up and turned on the two officers. She laid into both of them, blaming Pete for almost hitting her son. Thankfully, Jim took the lead on this one:
"Ma'am? Your son ran into the street. It was all my partner could do to avoid hitting him. It wasn't my partner's fault." First rule: attempt to reason with the mother.
"Not his fault? Look at my son. He's hurt and I'm going to sue both of you and the city too." She held the boy in question up so that Jim could see how badly her son was hurt.
Pete was discreetly speaking to witnesses and getting their names, just in case. Since there was no property damage they had no reason, yet, to call in Accident Investigation. Pete listened with half an ear to the exchange. It was times like this when Malloy was extremely grateful to have Jim for a partner.
"I see that he was hurt, Ma'am, but skinned knees are not your typical suing type of injury." How was Jim able to keep a straight face?
"But, he's bleeding! Why haven't you called an ambulance for him?" Reed reached into his pocket, took out his handkerchief and offered it to the woman.
"An ambulance is for people who are really hurt. I can't call one for this." By this time, Pete was leaning against the squad car, snickering.
"For THIS? What kind of a crack is that? My son is hurt." Once again, she held the toddler out to show Jim the slightly bleeding knees. He used the handkerchief the woman had ignored to dab at the tiny amount of blood on the child's knee.
"See? He's all better." It was worth a try. A small part of Jim's jaw had begun to twitch. Pete knew that happened when his partner's patience was being sorely strained.
"You're not a doctor! Don't touch him!" This woman was, in Jim's opinion, insane.
Finally, Jim got the woman calmed down and sent along her way; with instructions to keep a better eye on her son. As he walked towards their unit, Jim gave Pete the evil eye. He would pay for leaving that mess to Jim.
Pete had barely started driving when Jim looked him over carefully; considering something. A few minutes later, Jim turned to his best friend and spoke.
"Are you okay Partner?" Pete eyed Jim suspiciously. Why would he be asking Pete that?
"Yeah, why?" Malloy gave his uniform the once over, in case it was still dirty or had gotten torn.
"It's just that you slammed the brakes down really hard. Are you sure you didn't hurt your toe?" One corner of Jim's mouth started to rise into a half grin.
"Very funny, are you planning on clearing us anytime soon?" It wasn't a strong rebuke, but maybe it would quiet his younger partner. Especially when accompanied with a glare. Jim, unfortunately wasn't about to be put off that easily. He cleared the unit with dispatch and went back to offense.
"Shouldn't we stop to see if your toe is bleeding? If so, I can drive you to Central Receiving so they can put a bandage on your booboo." There was an audible groan from the driver's seat.
"Can it Reed. If you are holding onto any hope of driving in the future, stop, now." Pete didn't expect Jim to stop. He knew that he long ago lost the ability to put his younger partner in his place. Over the years, Jim had, in Pete's mind, grown into an equal partner; even so, he knew that Jim still held on to a bit of that hero worship most rookies have for their training officer.
"Oh, that's right. Murphy said that Mrs. O'Brian fixed it for you. It was the big toe on your driving foot, wasn't it?" Jim flashed Pete the biggest grin.
"We better check it Pete. You wouldn't want to pass out from the blood loss."
Pete sighed; it was going to be a long night,…