A/N: Gapfiller for 2.06 "The High Road." Surely Graham's hearings took more than two days...
Prompt: Forced to host a children's party.
The Perils of Suburbia
With Graham Wyler's life saved and his former crew safely in police custody awaiting trial, John and Zoe were just discussing how much longer to stay in "their" house in Far Rockaway when there was a knock at the door. John's hand automatically went to his sidearm, but a look from Zoe stopped him from actually drawing it. They answered the door to discover a mother and a girl who looked to be about six standing on the doorstep.
"Hi, Mr. an' Mrs. Campbell!" the girl began with a bright smile and an air of having practiced a speech. "May I use your back yard for my birfday party?"
John and Zoe looked at each other in bewilderment. "Uh," said Zoe.
"We live three doors down," the mother explained, "but we have a pool, and one of the other moms is... a little paranoid about the risk of drowning. It's a long story. So I said we'd see if we could find another venue."
"Well... um." Zoe looked at John again, as if he had any experience in such matters.
"We've already bought all the decorations and everything," the mother continued, sounding a little desperate. "I mean, if you want to help out with, like, grilling and stuff and maybe arrange some kind of entertainment, that'd be great, but... you don't have to."
"We... might be out of town on business this weekend," said John, half hoping for another number to come up and give him an excuse for saying no.
"It's next weekend!" the girl chimed in. "I promise we won't mess up your house or be mean to your dog! Pleeeeease?"
John's resolve wavered. "Well..."
"We can pay in Girl Scout cookies," the mother pleaded.
John and Zoe looked at each other again and sighed in defeat.
"You want me to what?!" Fusco exploded quietly. They were in the break room at the Eighth, so they had to keep their voices down... or at least John and Fusco did. Carter hadn't stopped laughing since John first mentioned the party.
"Help me come up with some kind of entertainment," John repeated. "Finch didn't have a clue, and it's not like I can ask Leon. Surely you went through this kind of thing with Lee."
"My ex went through it with Lee. When he turned six, I was tied up on a homicide and hadn't slept for thirty-six hours. I think that's one reason she ditched me."
Both men looked at Carter for help, but she shook her head. "Oh, no. I'm not bailin' you out of this one. Either of you."
Fusco's mouth flattened into an irritated line. "What do you want me to do, show up as Koko the Clown?"
John shrugged his eyebrows. "It'd suit you, Lionel."
Carter laughed even harder.
Fusco heaved an aggravated sigh. "Look, you're s'posed to be some kinda home security salesman, right? How 'bout I have a word with McGruff the Crime Dog?"
Carter pointed to him and nodded. "Now, that sounds like a good idea."
John looked at them both warily. "Are you sure? Bringing in an outsider..."
Carter waved off his objection. "Far Rockaway's got their own McGruff. They're not exactly on the lookout for 'the Man in the Suit.'"
"Especially not one who's married to a hot broad like Zoe Morgan," Fusco teased.
John rolled his eyes and resigned himself to not having backup.
And so it was that the following weekend, John found himself grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for a backyard full of squealing six-year-olds while Zoe mingled with the moms and McGruff escaped into the house to cool off out of sight of the party. Far Rockaway's McGruff, it turned out, was the father of one of the girls who'd been invited to the party, as well as an old friend of Fusco's, and he'd been more than happy to come tell the kids how to "take a bite out of crime" with Bear as an enthusiastic sidekick. But now he'd finished his spiel and was about to be finished off by the heat building up in the furry costume, so John turned the grill over to one of the other dads and followed McGruff inside to get both of them something colder to drink than the kids' punch, in which the lime sherbet had completely melted about an hour earlier.
In the safety of the living room, McGruff pulled off his head and gloves with a sigh of relief and accepted the cold pop John handed him. "Thanks for doing this, Mr. Campbell," he said. "I've been wanting a chance to speak to the kids, but the elementary school has a new principal who hates cops. It's hard enough to get in the door as myself, never mind as McGruff."
"Thought Far Rockaway didn't have much crime," John noted and took a drink of his own pop.
McGruff shook his head. "Even the sleepiest suburbs have their share of dark secrets. Might not make it to the police blotter, but it's out there. And there's a lot I don't know in a sense that would stand up in court, but I still know there's something going on, y'know?"
John did know and had an uncomfortable sense that there might be a reason the Machine hadn't told Finch to shut things down out here and bring John and Zoe back to the city quite yet.
The two men had just finished their pop when there was a knock at the front door, followed by Fusco letting himself in. "Hey," he said.
"Lionel!" John replied. "What brings you out here?"
Fusco shrugged. "I heard there were Girl Scout cookies."
John laughed. "This way." He motioned for Fusco to follow him and held his smile until they were in the kitchen. Then he murmured, "Why are you really here?"
Fusco's own smile faded. "Got a call from our mutual friend." He pulled out his phone and showed John a picture of the birthday girl's best friend. "Said he called me 'cause he thought you might need backup."
"Dammit." There was only one reason Finch would have sent Fusco that picture: the girl was a number, and that meant she was in danger.
Before he could ask for more details, though, Zoe came in with the girl in question, who was holding Zoe's hand and biting her lip anxiously. "It's okay," Zoe said softly, closing the door behind them. "You're safe here."
Fusco swiftly put his phone away as John went over to the new arrivals. "What's the trouble?" John prompted at the same volume.
"Can I talk to Mr. McGruff, please?" the girl asked in a barely audible whisper.
"Sure," said John. "I'll go get him, if you'll wait here a minute."
The girl glanced nervously at Fusco. "Can I come with you?"
"It'll only take a second," John promised. "This is Det. Fusco; he's a friend of McGruff's."
Joining them, Fusco crouched down to meet the girl's eyes and smiled. "Hi, sweetheart. What's your name?"
"Amy Sullivan," Amy replied but clung more tightly to Zoe's hand.
"It's nice to meet you, Amy. How old are you?"
"I'm six."
"Yeah? My son, he just turned ten."
Amy thawed a little under Fusco's gentle interrogation, and John stepped away and poked his head back into the living room. McGruff, having evidently heard at least a child's voice, already had his gloves back on; he nodded once to John and put his head on.
John turned back to the group by the kitchen door. "He's in the living room," he reported. "Wanna go in there to talk to him?"
Amy nodded, and as Fusco stood, Zoe escorted her through the kitchen and into the living room, where McGruff was waiting.
"McGruff, this is Amy," Zoe began. "She says there's something important she needs to talk to you about."
"Hello, Amy," said McGruff. "What can I do for you?"
"I saw something I wasn't s'posed to," Amy whispered. "My stepdad said he'd kill me if I told the police or anyone at school, but... but he didn't say I couldn't tell you."
On a sudden hunch, John backed away to the kitchen door while McGruff sat down on the couch to get Amy's whispered story. John turned just as his fear was realized and a masked, black-clad man jumped over the back fence. All the kids and most of the moms screamed.
John wrenched open the back door and barked, "Bear! Aanvallen!"
Bear, who had a pink balloon tied to his collar and had been merrily playing Tag with a smaller group of the kids, spun on a dime and leapt on the intruder with an open-mouthed snarl. The impact sent the intruder to the ground and forced him to drop his gun. John was on his way to subdue him when a second intruder came over the fence, so John had to leave the first to Bear and take down the second himself. Then a third man came over the fence, and John saw why Finch had sent Fusco. A fight ensued, during which the moms got the kids safely inside, but men and dog managed to render the hit squad harmless without a shot being fired by either side.
"Who the hell sends a hit squad after a six-year-old?" Fusco asked, tightening the cuffs on his prisoner.
John had knocked his man out, so he stripped the mask off and recognized the man's facial tattoos immediately. "MS-13," he reported. "Amy must have witnessed a gang deal of some kind."
Just then, backup from Far Rockaway PD arrived, and John called Bear off the first intruder, who'd been spewing Spanish profanities without regard to children's ears. As the police left, so did the partygoers, although the birthday girl's mom promised to come back later to help clean up.
"Is Amy safe?" John asked Zoe and McGruff as he came back into the house.
Zoe nodded as McGruff pulled off his costume head again. "She's staying with her dad this weekend," McGruff stated, "and we've got a good case for making it permanent, considering that her stepdad's been dealing drugs. We're lucky those thugs didn't settle for a drive-by. With Amy's testimony, though, we should be able to put them, her stepdad, and some other names on the Most Wanted list away for a good long time."
John nodded. "Appreciate your help."
"Hey, no problem. That's what I'm here for." McGruff shook hands all around, gave Bear a farewell pat, and left.
Zoe took a deep breath and let it out again. "Well! Never a dull moment around this place." She turned to Fusco. "Wanna help us finish off the birthday cake?"
"No, thanks," said Fusco. "I think I'll head back to The Bronx, where it's safer."
John snorted and handed him a box of Thin Mints, which he accepted with a chuckle and left.
"Think I should add this to my list of reasons for the divorce," Zoe snarked as the front door closed.
John laughed and got out the Scotch.