#2 Bah Rumpa Pum Pum
"Lieutenant…?"
Bah rumpa pum pum.
Bump. Ouch.
A newborn…"Lieutenant? Lieutenant, are you all right?"
Bah rumpa pum pum.
Bump. Damn.
I have no…"Lieutenant?"
It was like an annoying fly buzzing in his ear and he reached up to swat it away, missed and slapped against something hard and cold instead.
Bah rumpa pum pum Rumpa pum pum…
Bump. OW. What…?
I'll play my drum for him, bah rumpa pum pum…
Oh, man. Was that drumming in his head, or…?
"Lieutenant?"
"Sir?"
…my best for him, ba rumpa pum
Ouch.
Rumpa pum
Ouch - oh, for - somebody turn it off, please…
"Maybe somebody better call 911. Sir - ?"
I AM 911.
Rumpa pum pum
ouch.
Rumpa pum…
What in the name…
It came to him gradually that the fly buzzing in his ear was familiar and he groped for his earpiece. "Cahill?" he croaked.
Bump. Ow.
"Yes, sir." Cahill sounded relieved. "You okay, sir?"
"It's Burton from Security, sir. You've had a bad fall."
Oh.
He pried his lids apart far enough to make out a shadow hovering over him. There were two voices, then…
Bump. Ouch.
He turned his head slightly (ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch…) trying to get a better look at his predicament. Right in his line of vision he could see his right foot, still resting on an escalator step, rising with the stair, only to be dropped onto the next one as the first one rose out of reach. No wonder he felt…bump. Ouch. Damn.
He bared his teeth in a grimace, inching his foot at an angle until it teetered from the step and fell to the floor with a bang that made sparks shoot across his vision. Crap. No, that was better…
"Sir?"
"Sir?"
Two different voices, one from the inside of his head and one from the outside, and he pushed himself to try and respond. "I'm okay." Yeah. That sounded bad, even to him.
"I'd better call - "
Steve squinted hard and reached randomly, snagged a wrist and curled his hand tightly around it.
"Don't -" Sheesh - give a guy a minute, would you? He tried to shift his jacket with his other hand to show his gun and badge. "Police."
He must have succeeded, because the security guard's "Oh" of understanding sounded impressed. "You're with…?"
"Yeah." He had his eyes open all the way now - well, almost all the way - trying to get his bearings. "My attachment. Could you please help me sit up? Cahill?" He slapped one hand against his ear mike, a little harder than he'd intended. Cahill's voice shot through his inner ear on a shrill squawk of painful feedback.
"Right here, sir."
"Sir, I'm not sure - you fell pretty hard."
Steve pressed a hand tightly over his eyes as the feedback ricocheted through his temples. Gently, gently, one of you at a time…"I've had worse," he offered hoarsely. Maybe. Probably.
Burton carefully angled him upright, and the sudden swoop of the walls around him had him clutching frantically at the security guard's uniform jacket for ballast.
"Sir, I really think - "
"I'm fine, I'm fine - " Liar, liar… He tried a reassuring laugh that came out sounding pained and hollow and sent another ice pick lancing through each temple. He really really really needed to stop getting hit on the head in the line of duty…or off, for that matter.
He forced a smile and tried to focus both eyes simultaneously on Burton's face. Burton looked more alarmed than reassured and he tried another smile, freeing one hand from its deathgrip on the uniform jacket to adjust his ear mike. "Cahill?"
"Still here, Lieutenant. You okay?"
"A little worse for wear…" he rubbed at an insistently throbbing spot on the back of his skull and the sparks returned to dance in front of his eyes, bigger and brighter than before. "Just tell me that we didn't lose him."
The silence on the line stretched and Steve swore, louder than he intended, gave Burton an apologetic glance. "Okay," his voice dragged wearily. "Everybody sound off - "
He listened to each officer's call, kneading idly at a growing tightness at the back of his neck. All present and accounted for. "Who saw him last?"
There was a moment's buzzing hesitation, then Cahill's reluctant voice responded, "Probably me, sir. I - got distracted when you took that header down that escalator."
"Great." Nice to think that he was the cause of them losing sight of him. Merry Christmas to me. He stopped a sigh before it could become audible. "All right - everybody stay alert - especially you guys in baggage claim. If he hasn't shown up there yet, he will - he's not going anywhere without that suitcase. I'm heading back to the surveillance room."
Burton from security laid a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Er - sir - I think you need some medical attention. We have a nurse - "
Steve pressed a fist against one temple, then the other. "It's just a bump on the head. I'll take some aspirin - "
He had been using Burton's shoulder to lever himself to his feet, but one leg disappeared from under him and he hit the linoleum with a jounce that rocketed clear up his spine and imploded behind his eyeballs. He groped automatically for the missing leg, frowned at it in surprise when he felt skin and dampness instead of denim there.
The upper thigh of his jeans was gaping open from a neat slash, the tattered edges drenched with a dark, spreading stain.
Oh, great. He'd forgotten about that. He pushed his hand against it to slow the bleeding.
"Yeah, okay," he agreed heavily. "Medical attention it is."
Burton dragged one arm over his shoulders and jimmied him to his feet. Steve stumbled a little on his bad leg, then found a sort of balance. He glanced fully at Burton for the first time and swallowed a groan. Better not lean too hard. The guy looked about a hundred and five. They shuffled forward like two hopeless candidates in a three-legged race.
Somewhere overhead began the opening bars of a new Christmas carol, and Steve had to make a fist to stop himself from drawing his gun and shooting out the speakers.
I'll Be Home for Christmas.
Right
Why don't you just get off my back?
TBC
A/N: Actually, I think it's me that really really really needs to stop hitting Steve on the head…except for my first story, I never really start out meaning to…it just happens.