Not the most original idea, but thought it would be fun to do here at SOSF. Hope you enjoy!
A Fool By Any Other Name
Mike Stone whistled a happy tune as he arrived at the Bureau one fine spring morning. Walking down the hallway, he rhythmically tossed his ever present fedora in time with his steps and beamed from ear to ear. Entering through the glass door into the bullpen, he quickly assessed who was already working.
Lee is busy with reports, Mike mused to himself. Norm is making coffee and Dan is on the phone. Where's my Buddy boy? Not in yet, huh? Just then, Steve emerged from the back of the bullpen after making copies of the file from their latest arrest which would soon be sent to the Assistant District Attorney, Gerry O'Brien.
"Good morning," Steve mumbled as he slowly returned to his desk. Mike noticed the slowness in his stride as well as a slight limp.
"Morning, Buddy boy…" Mike replied. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," was Steve's automatic response. The truth was he was achy and tired.
"You're not moving too well. Did you sleep standing up or something?" Mike teased.
Steve sighed and refused to take the bait. "No, Mike. All is well." He carelessly tossed the papers on his desk as he flopped into the chair.
Mike studied his partner. "Looks like you've got something on your mind, there," he challenged, "and a new injury."
Deciding that his morning would be complete if he could get a rise from the kid, Norm walked from the coffeemaker with mug in hand and took a spot by Mike.
Steve conceded. "Okay, I'll tell you. I was leaving my apartment and walking down to my car when suddenly… I was attacked. I fell and twisted my ankle."
"Did you see who attacked you?" Mike asked with considerable concern.
"No," Steve said as he looke away and uttered another sigh.
"Do you have any description? What did he look like?" Mike pressed as Norm grinned behind him.
Steve paused for a moment. "Nevermind," came the quiet response.
"Looks like woman troubles, Mike," Norm interjected smugly.
Steve remained silent, while Mike and Norm looked at each other. "You know, Norm, you may have something there," Mike agreed. "Come on, out with it, Buddy boy," he pried as he gave his partner a nudge.
Steve paused as he placed the copied papers into a file folder. He looked at his mentor and fellow officer for a moment, contemplating his explanation.
"Have the girls been a little rough on you?" Mike asked gently.
"Oh, I like that," Norm began, only to be answered with a disapproving look from Steve and a suppressed smile from Mike.
Steve glanced down for a moment. "Aw, Mike, you know how it goes. Yeah, you can say that I've been having some trouble with the ladies."
"Go on…" Mike prodded.
"Well, you've seen what happens. I'm a victim!" Steve defended louder. "If it's not me getting shot, I'm falling off a cliff, going into some sort of shock or getting kidnapped. I tell you Mike, those ladies are out to get me."
Mike and Norm chuckled. "But you have to admit, they are lovely ladies and from all over the world, too! Europe, Australia and North America!", Norm marvelled. "You're a lucky man!"
"Oh, please! You don't know the half of it. Whenever they write stories, I get injured or sick. I'm in the hospital constantly. They call it 'maiming'. I call it 'Steve's personal hell'!"
Mike tried to restrain himself from laughing. "Actually, Buddy boy, you are doing the rest of us such a great service. When I think of the times you've been injured, I know that you've taken it for the team. I just want you to know we all appreciate that."
"It doesn't help," Steve pouted.
"You know, ever since Bonanza was canceled, the ladies have been looking for Joe/Pa moments," Norm offered.
"I don't even know what that means!" Steve declared.
"It means: you are young and suffer well," Mike added.
Steve's voice cracked as he ran his hand through his amazingly thick brown hair. "Terrific, but when will it end?" A look of terrifying anxiety overtook the young man as he thought back to all of his injuries. The look was not lost on either of the older detectives.
Norm cast a worried glance at Mike. "Mike, maybe you should call Lenny. Maybe the ladies have pushed Steve to the end of his rope. I think he's losing it."
"I am not!" Steve countered sharply as he snapped back to reality.
"He doesn't need Lenny, Norm. He needs a break." Mike turned to face Steve, "I saw this coming, Buddy boy. I've already had a word with the girls."
Steve was incredulous. "How did you do that? They 'write' you, don't they? Your words are really theirs."
"That's right. But I'm also Iron Mike and Jeannie's father. They listen to me. I told them to leave you alone for a while. Focus the drama on others in the Bureau: Lessing, Healy, Tanner…even Norm, here."
"Hey!" Norm interrupted.
"Even Norm," Mike continued. "Of course, there's Rudy, Lenny or me. But I think it's time they gave you a break, Buddy boy" he added, reassuringly.
"Do you think they'll listen?" Steve asked innocently and wide-eyed. That particular vulnerable look was one that made women swoon and men become fatherly.
"Of course, they will," Mike said as he ruffled Steve's hair. "I guarantee that today, you will be fine."
Steve squinted at his mentor, wondering if what he said was true. Then he realized how uncharacteristic it was of him to doubt the man and accepted Mike at his word. "You're right, Mike. I think I've been letting the injuries get to me. I can be a little klutzy. That's probably all it is."
Mike nodded his head. "That's right, Buddy boy. Say, why don't you deliver that file to Gerry's office yourself. Get some fresh air. It will do you good. Maybe run by the bakery and pick us up some donuts."
"I am getting low on sunflower seeds. Maybe you're right – a walk outside on this lovely spring day would be good. What could possibly happen?" Steve asked as he picked up the file and grabbed his jacket.
"Indeed," Mike whispered as he watched his young friend exit the room and begin his journey to the court house several blocks away.
After a few minutes, Mike nodded to Norm, and the two men walked over to the window which overlooked the police parking lot. As they watched Steve leave the main exit of the Bureau, a sedan with Texas license plates came roaring toward the young man. Steve saw the vehicle coming his way and knew that his best bet to survive was to jump on the hood. He did that, but then fell off the car after traveling several feet. He still held the file in his hand.
Getting up he shook his head to regain his senses. "What the?" he said aloud while squinting in vain to see the license plate number.
Just then he heard gunshots coming from the other side of the lot. Quickly turning, he suddenly felt the burning of a stray bullet which creased his right arm. "Damn it!" he said, all the while hanging on to the file.
Deciding that perhaps it wasn't safe to walk, Steve made his way to his car. He fished the key out of his coat pocket with his uncreased arm, opened the Porsche and got behind the wheel. Letting out a sigh of relief, he turned the ignition. After a pop, Steve saw smoke and noticed the engine was on fire. "My Porsche! What now?" he yelled. Steve grabbed the file, jumped out of the car and ran back to the sidewalk, just in time for a larger explosion to destroy the car.
The impact sent Steve flying. Landing oddly on his wrist, he heard a snap and then felt a sudden pain shoot up his arm. "Argh!" Steve cried out in agony. Placing the file next to him, he quickly wrapped his good hand around the broken wrist and began to rock back and forth in pain.
Seconds later, Mike was at his side. "Buddy boy, are you okay?" Mike knelt by his fallen partner and put a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder.
"I'm fine," Steve practically yelled at his boss. "I thought you said that the ladies agreed on no more maims for a while. What do you call this?!"
"Open the file," Mike said.
"What?" Steve asked unbelievably.
"Open the file," Mike ordered.
Steve opened the manila file folder and couldn't believe his eyes. The first page of the report had one simple line. "APRIL FOOLS, from the Ladies of the SOSF group!"