Doodle Doo

The gray fog hanging over the city of San Francisco perfectly mirrored the mood in the bullpen. The detectives put in considerable overtime during the past few weeks and the hectic pace had taken its toll. Vacations were cancelled and the men were finding themselves in the office before the sunrise and after sunset.

"My wife made a crack the other night about who the stranger was at the dinner table. It was the first time she and I had sat down for a meal together in days and even then, it was practically nine o'clock," Bill Tanner commented regretfully.

Norm Hassejian walked passed the detective on his way back from the coffee maker, a cup of bitter warmed over sludge in his hand. "I haven't had any action in weeks," he grumbled.

Steve rolled his eyes as he chewed on the eraser end of his pencil. In addition to the fatigue, the pressure was causing some division within the team. This wasn't the first time he'd heard Norm lamenting on the impact the long hours had taken on his love life. He began to speak, but then opted to remain quiet.

"What?" Norm said as he baited the young man. "How's your love life...buddy boy?"

Steve sighed. "Now don't you call me that. I've got it bad enough with Mike on that one."

"Oh, pity party," Norm mocked. "But take heart, young one. One of these days, you'll be like me and Danny boy here. You'll be calling your own shots and running your own investigation."

Steve was annoyed with the patronizing attitude of his colleague. "Oh, you've got it pretty good, huh?"

"I sure do. I run my own investigations. Sure I do extra legwork for your guys - help out when I can," Norm sniffed as he did his best Barney Fife imitation.

Steve chuckled. "Say, you've got a real gift for that. Why don't you show me the bullet you have in your pocket."

"Smart ass," Norm muttered.

Dan Healy chimed in and redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand: a ridiculously full caseload. "I don't get it," he commented. "You'd think we had weeks of non-stop full moons with the caseload we have."

After a few moments of complaining, the team stood there in silence contemplating when the stress level would soon abate.

With a sudden bang on the door, Mike Stone entered the bullpen and called then men to order. The team was taken aback by Mike's presence. Clearly he had been with Rudy and the stress showed. Steve dropped his pencil on his desk.

"What is going on in here? Why aren't you all working?" he barked, despite being as fatigued as the rest.

"Just taking a break, Mike," Steve answered quietly. "The fellows just needed to stretch their legs."

Mike didn't respond, but instead looked down at the hastily prepared papers he held in his hands. "Everyone gather 'round," Mike commanded.

The remaining detectives in the room dutifully gathered in the center of the bullpen.

"We all know everyone is putting in some extra time. We have a new week and a new work schedule," Mike began as he handed out an announcement meant to provide some relief.

The men each held out their hands tentatively and accepted what was handed to them. As they did they pulled up chairs or leaned against the desk to hear the announcement and give Mike their full attention.

Steve caught the error first.

Effective immediately, the work rooster has been revised. The purpose is to stagger hours to provide optimal coverage while providing some downtime. From now until told otherwise, please adhere to the following schedule. If you have any questions about the rooster, please let me know.

Rooster? Steve thought to himself. Never thought of that as a typo for 'roster'. He felt the sides of his mouth curl slightly, but hoped that it was not noticeable. Mike was in no mood for teasing. He couldn't help but cast a quick glance to Bill.

Bill stared at the paper, his eyes transfixed to the text and becoming moist. Indeed, he had noticed the funny typo as well, Steve thought to himself.

Again, the young detective shot a quick glance to another colleague: this time, Dan Healy. He noted Dan holding the paper in his hand, shaking it ever so tightly. Suddenly he heard a muted laugh that Healy quickly passed off as a cough. Steve himself had to resist the urge to crack and instead shifted in his seat.

"Is there a problem, Keller?" Mike asked his partner in a stentorian tone as he saw Steve fidget.

Steve raised his eyebrows in response. "No," he hesitated. "No, sir!"

"Questions?" Mike barked to the others.

"No..." the men answered quietly.

"Good!" Mike declared and turned to his office.

And then it happened.

"Ehr-er-er Er-errrr!" It was unmistakable. Someone imitated a rooster as Mike walked away. The senior detective stopped in his tracks. Everyone froze in their places.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" Mike bellowed.

All were silent. Mike glared at each and every detective in the room. Each returned his glare with wide eyes. Finally, Mike's anger rested on his young partner.

Steve uttered his only defense. "It wasn't me!" he squeaked.

"IF IT WASN'T YOU, THEN WHO WAS IT?" Mike yelled.

"Ah, I don't... I don't..." Steve stammered as he looked around to each of his colleagues. Only one did not return his look. "I got nothin'..." he finally answered.

Mike quickly looked at his announcement and saw the typo. "Aw hell! Not once but twice! All right, funny boy, I need to file this little announcement with Rudy and personnel. Why don't you retype it with the correct spelling?" he asked with sweet sarcasm.

"But..." Steve countered, but quickly recanted as the glare came at him in full force. "Fine," he said as he took his paper copy and began to retype it. With that Mike returned to his office and slammed the door.

The other detectives slinked back to their desks, happy to have avoided Mike's anger. That is, all but one.

Steve felt someone's presence from behind. "People only hurt the ones they love," Steve heard in a whisper. The young man froze for a moment, recognizing the coffee scented breath. Swiftly, he turned in his seat.

"Oh yeah? I'll hurt you," he said pointedly, but not loud enough to attract Mike's attention.

"Sure you will, kid" Norm teased. "Ehr-er-er er-er!"

"I knew it was you!" Steve said. He looked over to the other detectives who could no longer control their laughter. After a beat, Steve began laughing as well. "You should be the one retyping this masterpiece, you know."

"Oh, but you have such a gift for that!" Norm countered.

"Smart ass," he countered.

The young man returned to the typewriter, smirking and secretly happy for the brief levity. But then as he cast a quick glance to his partner, he knew that now was not the time for jocularity.

Just then, Mike looked out to the bullpen and saw the burly Armenian teasing his young partner. Watching he made a mental note: For the next two weeks, it's night shift for Norm. I'll show him who the lead rooster is around here...

And with that, Mike smiled ever so slightly.