The London headquarters were always bustling, always in motion. There was too much to do for them to be anything less than efficient. As they passed each other in the halls, everyone had their place, their rhythm. Any disruptions to that rhythm boded ill.
The disruption that greeted Lieutenant Meyers was...unexpected.
With a worn uniform, soaking wet and missing a boot, the group captain returned his salute crisply. "Colonel Crittendon, reporting with the results of the Papa Bear Awards. I apologize for my state, but I thought it best not to delay."
The lieutenant gaped at him, dropping his hand from his brow slowly. "Uh, Group Captain—"
"I prefer 'Colonel,' chap," he said primly. "Whatever else the Colonials have done, 'colonel' rolls off the tongue much better, don't you think?"
"'Colonel,'" the lieutenant agreed faintly. "I don't want to speak out of turn, sir, but—"
"Rodney! Good to see you."
Group Captain Roberts shook his hand, leaving Meyers to watch in utter bemusement. Group Captain Crittendon—that is, Colonel Crittendon—continued to drip, his only heel tapping against the floor as he squared his shoulders. The puddle gathering underneath him splashed at the movement.
"You're just in time," Roberts gave him a once over. "The results are safe?"
"I have guarded them with my life." Crittendon beamed, standing at attention. "I had them written in waterproof ink as well. Always prepared."
"Uh...sirs?" the lieutenant tried to interrupt.
"If you turn the results into my care, I'll see them accounted for right away," Roberts said.
"Sirs, the award results—"
"No, Roberts, no. I promised Hogan that I'd see them directly to the committee, and that is exactly what I'm going to do."
"Oh, I'm sure you've had a difficult journey," Roberts coaxed. "You ought to rest. I'll give those results the same care you have, I assure you."
Crittendon seemed to sag, or perhaps that was just his uniform drooping from the weight of water in it. "Well...yes, I suppose there's no harm in that." He handed over a dripping piece of paper, which Roberts accepted solemnly. They traded salutes once more before Crittendon began to squish away.
"Group Captain Roberts, sir," Meyers said with an aborted wince. "The PBA results were published three hours ago."
Roberts smiled down at the paper, shaking his head slightly. "Yes, I know. Close enough for the good colonel to believe he's accomplished his goal, though."
"Sir?"
"The thing you have to understand about Crittendon is that he's absolutely mad." He set the sopping, illegible results paper to one side. "No matter what it is he's set his mind to, he'll do everything in his power to accomplish it...and sabotage himself in the attempt." He chuckled to himself. "The thing Hogan's never figured out is how to keep him far enough from the things that matter to contain the damage."
"How do you, sir?"
He glanced up. "How do I what?"
"How do you 'contain the damage'?"
Group Captain Roberts gave the lieutenant a winning smile. "Simple enough. I arrange for him to have missions in and around Germany."
fin
AN: The final results of the Papa Bear Awards are in! They are being posted on the forums and within a few days, they will be up on the website. Congratulations to all the winners and a big thank you to everyone who participated by reading and sending in your ballots; these awards couldn't exist without you!
A very hearty thank-you to bleeze brew who wrote this year's excellent mission briefing!
