A/N: Sorry it took so long, and it's not that wonderful. I was tired and bored and uninspired, so you'll get your serious plot going on in the next chapter. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. ) You guys are awesome.

The chapel was a bustle of activity when Tom and Doug stumbled in, their eyes blinking tiredly, their limbs sluggish and unwilling to move. Judy Hoffs, Harry Ioki, and Sal Bonducci were crowded around Judy's desk, all smiling faces and glittering eyes, sharing a laugh over something or other. The desk workers were typing up reports, moving back and forth, back and forth, in a monotonous rhythm around the small area. Captain Adam Fuller stared at them from the threshold of his office, his hard eyes demanding, but holding just a hint of concern.

Tom sighed, and flopped down into his chair, swinging his legs over one of the arms and shutting his sleepy eyes. He didn't protest when Doug shoved his paperwork, pens, typewriter, and coffee mug onto the floor. He didn't protest when Doug curled up on his desk and shut his eyes. There was no need to protest. When he felt up to it again, he'd make him clean it all up. They'd bicker until Doug obliged, because that was what being partners was about. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered at that moment except for a boy named Marty Normick.

They'd found him after lunch, his head busted open in the hallway, his lips parted slightly as if he had been gasping for breath. His blue eyes peaking out from behind half-closed lids. Girls had screamed, boys had gasped, breathed hard, put their hands over their mouths. Many ran to the bathroom and the sounds of vomiting could be heard for an hour after the initial discovery. Some were late in the registering of the fact that Marty Normick had been brutally murdered in the hallway of their high school, shock overriding the physical reaction to so much spilt blood on dirty tile.

"Hanson, Penhall," Captain Fuller's voice was one of command, and the two groaned like petulant children being woken for school.

"We have no suspects," Doug mumbled against the desk and he shifted to lie on his back, his long legs dangling from either side, his eyes turned to his captain with all the attention he could muster. "All we know is the kid was pounded into the hallway during lunch. It was unexpected and we were trying to get those other kids to give us drugs, but that didn't pan out either."

"Marty was pretty cool," Tom said softly from his chair. "He was in my lit class. Let me cheat off his quizzes. Liked to read and wasn't afraid to share."

"They found an ounce of marijuana in his clothes," Fuller informed them, deliberately ignoring his officer's mention of cheating. "This might be connected to the drug ring you guys are trying to infiltrate."

Tom shook his head, weary. "That's a tight knit circle, Coach, and Marty didn't hang out with that crowd. He was more of a loner. The friendly kind. Besides, marijuana isn't exactly drug ring material. These kid s like their smack."

Judy flounced over, Harry at her heels.

"You guys okay?" she asked, her brown eyes wide with concern. "We heard what went down with that kid."

Doug said, "Yeah, we're fine, Jud" and Tom nodded silently, pulling his legs underneath his chin and hugging them to his chest.

"Jeez, Hanson, way to be reassuring," Harry teased, and Tom offered him a small smile in return.

"So, no suspects," Fuller said, more to himself than to his officers. "You can't think of any enemies Marty might have had?"

"Like I said, he kept to himself," Tom replied. "But when he didn't, he was just this friendly kid." Tom really couldn't think of anyone who would want to hurt Marty Normick. For the most part, he stayed out of the way.

"Maybe whoever did it decided they weren't a fan of those dirty blond dreads of his," Doug commented, illustrating his knack for trying to lighten the mood by saying the wrong thing. Tom, of course, did not react well to this, hitting his partner hard in the side, eliciting a yelp of pain.

"Shut up, Dougie," he snapped and Doug bounded up to reciprocate. Fuller quickly placed a hand on the young man's broad chest, holding him back.

"That's enough," he barked. "Why don't you two go home and rest? You can scope out the possible suspects tomorrow at school. Its been a long day and I want you guys back with level heads bright and early in the morning."

Tomorrow at school rang a bell in the memories of the two young officers and they exchanged quick glances before mumbling "oh" and "um" and "about that..." and at their captain's tapping foot and crossed arms and rolling eyes, they rummaged through their pockets to pull out crumpled pieces of paper.

"These have to be signed or we won't be allowed back in school," Tom said sheepishly.

Judy glanced at the notes over Fuller's shoulder, and mock gasped, "My word. FIGHTING? You two? For shame."

"Not only that," Harry chirped. "Belligerent attitudes toward their teachers and distracting classroom behavior! Oh, and Penhall's failing Spanish while Hanson's failing pre-calc."

"How are you failing different subjects? Aren't you in the same classes?" Judy asked.

"I hate Spanish," Penhall grumbled. "And we have different fourth periods."

"Yeah, he's in REMEDIAL English," Tom gloated.

"It's not remedial, it's normal. Just because I'm not in the BRAIN class...besides that, Pre-Calc is the easiest class ever. As long as you try your best, you get credit. How dumb do you have to be to be failing PRE-CALC?"

"Not dumb, just lazy," Tom replied smartly. "Just because I don 't write enthralling freedom fighter stories about Ghandi-like kids protesting the use of quadratic equations doesn't make me any less intelligent than you."

Doug snorted. "A McQuaid in advanced English. Whoever heard of such a thing?"

Tom shrugged. "Placement tests don't lie."

"You were supposed to put C for every answer. We had it PLANNED."

"I'm not my brother's keeper," Tom huffed. "Sometimes maybe I want to be the separate McQuaid. People always look at us and think Tommy and Doug McQuaid. Number 1 and 2. Maybe, just maybe, I want them to see me as Tommy McQuaid...the original."

"Why can't I be number one?" Doug demanded.

"Huh?"

"You just said, and I quote, 'Tommy and Doug McQuaid. Number 1 and 2'. This would imply that you meant Tommy and Doug McQuaid, number 1 and 2, respectively. I'm opposed to you putting yourself first."

"Well, GEE, Dougie-"

"Go home," Fuller finally interjected. "I've heard enough." He scribbled a signature on each note and handed them back to his young officers. "Sleep. School tomorrow. On time. Suspects."

"Yes, sir," the two said in unison, obediently hopping to their feet, gathering their things, and beginning the trek out of the chapel.

Judy and Harry exchanged glances, shifting from foot to foot, listening to the continuing banter as their partners made their way out of their place of business.

"ANYWAY," Doug's voice echoed through the chapel. "I'm obviously number one because I'm bigger and stronger and could squash you like a bug if I ever decided I wanted to be the only child."

"We don't have parents!" Tom's voice reverberated , bouncing off the walls, creating a long-lasting indignance that caused the two remaining officers to engage in an explosion giggles that continued on long after Tom Hanson and Doug Penhall had exited the chapel parking lot.

TBC...