Chapter 22: We're Getting Our Shit Back Together

Hey, it's Three Dog! AWWWOOOOOOOO!

Just kidding, it's just me, The Draigg. But, as a loyal reader pointed out, my author's notes reminded him of Three Dog. And I completely see what he's saying, and agree with that. So, kudos to that guy! But, in all honesty, if I was my Fallout 3 character, I wouldn't be writing fanfic. I'd be out there in power armor, wielding a electric-powered sword, trying to save the Earth. Yet again, then you guys wouldn't have this story in your life, so I guess that wouldn't be the best of things. Anyway, enough about my Fallout 3 character. Besides, I'm more of a New Vegas type of dude. Go Rangers! With that pointless stuff being said, now let's get to the story!

xxx

Tuesday rolled in almost uneventfully. Well, the key word was "almost". It would be a completely dull day if the hunter pair didn't have to stop by to get all their cop stuff back. But, the accidental fire sort of postponed that until the next day.

This time around, Sun and Neptune showed up to the VCPD in their regular clothes. This was supposed to be a quick thing, and they weren't really expecting to do anything important today. So, no retro cop fashions, no dressing like a washed-up cop on the edge. Just some monkey Faunus guy who refused to button up his shirt, and some failed ladies-man who dressed like the member of a B-listed boy band.

They breezed past the front desk, flashing their badges to the attending secretary on the way in. Inside the office area, it was the usual bustle that Sun and Neptune had encountered before. Just a bunch of detectives and uniformed cops filing reports, doing paperwork, delivering coffee, so on and so forth. Nothing all that new.

"So… think they figured it out?" Sun whispered to Neptune.

"No," Neptune hissed. "And I hope they don't." After all, how can someone feel self-important after accidentally lighting another trash can on fire in a public building a second time?

Sun gave a small chuckle and shrug. To him, a small fire was just water off of the duck's back. Or, monkey, in this case. "Whatever, bro," he chortled.

Neptune picked up his pace as he walked out of the main office area and into the back hallways. Sun could only guess that the whole fire business was putting him way on edge. Pretty much anyone would if they had to back to the scene of a crime they committed the day after it was done.

In fact, as the pair walked further down the hallway, Neptune winced as he passed the charred wall and remains of the trashcan. The area was taped off with caution tape, and by the looks of it, the flooring got burned up rather nicely as well. Great. That's just what he needed to see today.

Neptune could feel himself begin to sweat as he walked past the scene of his crime. Well, there went his deodorant. Inwardly, he tried to kick some sense into himself. "C'mon, get a grip, Neptune. You have to get your shit together. Just because you lit a fire in a police station, where there are plenty of people around to arrest you and try you for arson and send you to jail… Oh, stop thinking that way! You're not going to jail! …You wouldn't even survive! You don't even have soap on a rope for that! You'll be the prison's meat condom if you get arrested! Stop thinking that way, damn it! Calm! Stay calm!"

Sun's Faunus enhanced senses picked up on a peculiar stench. "Dude, you fuckin' smell," he bluntly said to Neptune.

"Maybe I should take a shower once we get back to Beacon," Neptune stalled. He was only lying to himself. He knew that his deodorant vaporized the instant he walked past all those scorch marks. Still, he had to keep his composure, damn it! He couldn't stress out about this too much!

Trying best to slow down his heart rate, Neptune kept on walking down the hallway with Sun. Soon up ahead was a familiar sign. The armory was the one stop shop for everything they needed. Of the cop-related nature, naturally. Nobody ever heard of an armory selling groceries. Well, in the Kingdom of Vale, anyway.

Walking into the armory, Sun and Neptune saw the regular guy behind the desk, Officer Morales. From the looks of it, he was disassembling one of the standard service revolvers to clean.

"Yo! Morales! How's my man doin'!" Sun loudly greeted as he sauntered into the room.

"Oh, you're back?" Morales asked, looking briefly up from his work.

"Yeah! And Neptune's with me!" continued Sun, gesturing to his partner. Officer Morales flicked his gaze over at Neptune. In return, Neptune gave a small wave back at him.

"Anyway, what do ya want?" Morales flatly asked.

Sun leaned against the distribution counter. "Well, ya know, the normal cop stuff. Guns, ammo, car keys. That type of stuff." After a brief moment of silence, he added, "Can we get a good car this time? Like, for real?"

Officer Morales gave Sun a rather flat and bored look. "You'll get the car that you're assigned to."

"Yeah, but I feel like, ya know, I fit in more with like a fuckin' pussy wagon or some muscle car and… okay, you're just walkin' away now…" Sun trailed off as Officer Morales got out of his chair and walked towards the back of his work area.

"Any patrol car will do!" Neptune called after Morales. He wasn't exactly looking forward to being stuck in another lame car. He had a reputation as a cool looking dude to uphold. Of course, he didn't get a reply from Officer Morales. Heck, he was so far back there, he couldn't even see him. All the hunter duo could do was hope that by some chance that they would get a good car this time around.

Drumming his fingers against the counter, Neptune couldn't help but have his thoughts drift to the d20 in his pocket. For some reason, he couldn't help but notice that he was really having issues with it recently. Maybe the Random Number God had just decided out of the blue to fuck with him on a personal level. Well, that would actually make sense, as it was the embodiment of chance, luck, and chaos.

"I should really get into tarot cards instead. At least those won't mess with me," Neptune lamented to himself. Yet again, he heard that those cards could cause even more trouble with their use. He might be whisked off to some other parallel world, or be confronted by someone with supernatural powers, for all he knew. On second thought, he decided that the d20 was the best bet to stick with.

Just as the thoughts about tarot cards drifted away from Neptune, Officer Morales walked back up to the waiting hunters. Silently, he slid two service revolvers under the grate covering, along with a few quick-reload cylinders and a set of car keys.

The first thing Sun did was inspect the keys. And he didn't like what he saw. These keys were too familiar for his own good. "Dude, I said I wanted a GOOD car! Not the fuckin' Gabby!" he complained.

Officer Morales gave a nonplused shrug. "Hey, it's what I got. If ya want to file a complaint, go to the chief."

Sun and Neptune balked at that suggestion. At this point, the chief would probably throw a massive fit if they came in with a complaint. From their meetings with him, it was rather clear that he thought that they were working under him, rather than alongside him. To be fair, that thought wasn't exactly inaccurate. But, for the sake of rocking the boat, Sun and Neptune independently decided that demanding a different car from Chief Irons was pretty much a suicide mission.

"…Is it repaired already?" Sun asked, disappointed with getting the Gabby once again.

"Sure is," Officer Morales replied. "Installed a new front bumper, too. Ya know, the cattle catcher type? Anyways, the Gabby's out in the garage when ya need it."

"Thanks…" Neptune muttered. Sun sure as hell wasn't going to say it, so he naturally had to step in. It was only polite.

Sun heaved a groan as he picked up a service revolver to inspect it. Well, at least Morales did a good job of cleaning the thing. As far as Sun could tell, the chamber revolved like a dream. Well oiled, too. There was only the faintest of clicks as the cylinder spun under Sun's hand. Officer Morales sure did know a thing or two about proper gun care. He could give him that much.

Turning to Neptune, Sun said, "Grab your stuff. We'll just put it in the locker and get outta here, okay?" Then, something clicked in Sun's mind. Turning back to the counter, he asked, "'Ey, Morales? Ya got the locker key, or what?"

"It's on the car keys," Officer Morales disinterestedly replied. Then, now that his task was done, he sat back down to work on cleaning the stripped service revolver.

"Huh. Thanks," grunted Sun. He swiped the reload cylinders off of the counter and shoved them into his jean shorts pockets. "C'mon, Neps."

At that, Neptune took the revolver left on the counter and put it in his jacket pocket. Now that he got what he needed, he and Sun left the room. Next stop: the locker room. It wasn't like that they needed to take the guns back with them to Beacon. They already carried more than enough firepower on their person on a daily basis. So, with that in mind, the pair walked across the hallway, into the locker room to store their police issued hardware.

As soon as they had walked into the locker room, Sun immediately began to wonder out loud. "Dude, d'ya think they added anything better to the van? I mean, they said they gotta new front bumper… hell, maybe we did them a favor by crashing that thing…"

"I doubt it. On both points," Neptune dryly said. Yeah, because crashing a car was always a positive thing. Just like how Neptune held the secret key to the Kingdom of Neptuneland, where the women were nubile, the air was clean, and cupcake-flavored orgasms grew on trees. Oh, and where crashing a police van was ALWAYS considered a good thing. Right. That too. He couldn't POSSIBLY forget that point.

"I mean, maybe it got a new paintjob?" Sun continued, not listening to Neptune at all. "Like, it would need one after that crash, right? A coat of paint can go a lonnnggggg way, brah."

"Sure, whatever," Neptune mumbled, his interest in Sun's rambling rapidly slipping away. At this point, he just wanted to put all of his cop stuff in his locker and leave. Today was supposed to be an off day for him. But that fire had taken away one of the days where he didn't need to be a cop. So, it was a little understandable that Neptune was a little bitter over this whole situation currently.

The pair approached the locker towards the back of the room, just like the other times they had been here. By now, it could be easily called routine. Walk in, unlock lock, grab guns, close lock, walk out. Simple. It was kindergarten level easy. And, just like those other times, the locker key still worked, and the locker still opened. Just like always. There were no delusions at all about this being an almost uneventful day.

Sun pulled the locker key off of the key ring, and tossed the van keys inside the locker. Then, with a smooth motion, he fished his revolver and reload cylinders out of his pockets. Into the locker they went. Soon enough, it was Neptune's turn to contribute to the locker. It was almost as if the locker was some ancient monster, and Sun and Neptune's police gear was the virgin sacrifice being sent to appease the waiting elder creature. But, that's a gross dramatization of those events.

To put it simply, they put their shit in the locker and secured the lock.

Once again, it can't be over-stated how mundane and dull this day was.

Once everything was in its proper place, Sun and Neptune made a beeline for the closest exit. As they walked towards down the hallway, Neptune couldn't help but shudder a little again as he passed the burned trashcan area. The sooner he got out of here, the better.

"So…" Sun began, trying to make conversation, "What'cha want for dinner? I'm in the mood for some fuckin' ribs."

"Steakhouse?" Neptune suggested. After all, they were in Vale City. They could stand to go a little out of their way to eat out. It would be certainly better than having a meal from the cafeteria. Out in the city, their chances of getting food poisoning were definitely slimmer.

"Sounds good to me," Sun agreed.

And so, once they were out of the police station entirely, the police duo of Sun and Neptune set off in search of a decent steak joint.

Wow, what a boring fucking day indeed.

Oh well. At least it was better than having a constant risk to their lives.

xxx

Well… sorry about the chapter, guys. Even I can't deny how fucking dull it all is. But, consider this a set up episode. I just needed to get the necessary stuff out of the way. But hey! Now that we're done with that, we can focus on the action again! And I can definitely promise you that some will happen! So please, be excited! I haven't stopped giving you the stuff you all love!

This has been The Draigg, and I'm outta here for now!