Hardison, as it turned out, had little to no interest in visiting a Tibetan Art Museum. He had even less interest in being disturbed by two of his team mates at 7:45am when he had only gone to bed at 4. But this did not deter his disgustingly alert team mates, both of whom were in his room when he was sure they had not been when he locked up the night before.
He really hoped Parker had used her mad skills and popped the door open with no damage, because, when Eliot broke into places, he tended to simply kick doors in. Hardison suspected the hotel management would take issue if her were to employ this tactic on their property. Plus, the last time he'd done that when they weren't in the middle of some urgent job, Nate actually sat all of them down and lectured them on why one does not destroy doors unnecessarily.
The distinct lack of pissed off hotel staff suggested the first option was more probable.
"Get up!" Parker was saying, obviously at a loss as to why he hadn't jumped out of bed when heard a trip out to Staten Island was on offer.
"Meh!" he groaned, rolling over and tugging the plush comforter over his head. He really like the comforter. Maybe he'd ask someone where they got them so he could get one for his apartment.
Moments after the lovely darkness encased him, the cover was yanked back down. "Nooo!" he insisted, once again diving beneath the blanket.
"Come on!" Parker insisted, plopping down on the side of the bed and bouncing. Thanks to the high quality foamy mattress, he was barely jostled. "I thought you wanted to learn about art. You like Sophie's asides when we're doing a job."
"In his defense, he's usually more awake when Sophie goes off on an art ramble," Eliot piped up, his voice sounding like it was coming from near the desk.
Alec peeked out from his cocoon to see that yes, Eliot had wandered from the door to the desk and had poked the idling computer. Seriously, the man had two modes of walking, stomp or silent. It was creepy.
Eliot looked and saw Hardison's one bleary eye. "You stay up all night on this?" he questioned with a little smirk.
"Olytifor," he mumbled into the blanket, watching a bit more intently as Eliot peered into the big FAO Schwartz bag. The hitter didn't touch any of the packaged collectables, but he did pick up a large LEGO box.
"A pirate ship?"
Pulling the blanket out of the way, Alec said, "Pirates are cool, man."
Eliot conceded that point with a shrug, then said, "You gonna be up for a ball game tonight? Yankees/Sox at 8."
"Not gonna miss that," he yawned, then looked over at Parker…who was no longer sitting on the bed.
A quick scan of the room found her rooting around in the mini bar. When she emerged, it was with a Starbucks iced mocha drink gripped tightly in her hand. "So that's a no on the museum, but a yes on the ballgame," she said, popping the top off and downing half the drink in two mouthfuls.
He nodded. "Yeah, I'm just gonna catch up on my sleep for now. You two have fun."
"Okay," she said, sucking down the rest of the drink, then nodding toward the door. "Come on. Let's hit the museum…well, not hit it, like I'd normally hit it…or like you'd normally hit it! Ha!"
Pleased by her strode toward the door. Hardison tossed Eliot a look and said, "Do you have any idea how much sugar and caffeine was in that?"
"Yup," the hitter said, exiting at a more sedate pace.
From the hall they heard, "Eliot! Come on!"
As Eliot closed the door, Alec called out, "Have fun!"
************************************************************************
Exploring the museum was a pleasant experience, but it wasn't the best venue to burn off Parker's sugar high. So after a couple of hours perusing the exhibits and gardens, the pair found themselves wandering around the city, taking in the sights.
Oddly enough, as the day went on they found themselves more or less tripping over cordoned off crime scenes, police interviews or foot pursuits, joining crowds gathered to gawk at other people's misfortune. Not that either Eliot or Parker were entertained by other's suffering, but they liked to observe the cops. In their line of work, any insight into the minds of law enforcement professionals was a boon. Plus, some of the cops and crimes were interesting.
The first oddity they came across was when they were walking down the street in the second police precinct and suddenly Parker was shoved into Eliot's side. When they looked up, they saw that the pushy passerby was in fact running at a brisk pace and dressed in a Bugs Bunny costume. Before they could even comment on an event that was strange even for them, two police detectives, a man and a woman, came hurtling around the corner, shouting for the sprinting hare to stop.
They assessed the situation for all of two seconds, then Eliot picked up a coconut from a vendors stand, dropped a few bucks into the mans hand, then reared back and hurled the fruit. As with most projectiles he chose to launch at, well, anything, the coconut found it's mark on the back of Bugs' head. The Bunny dropped like a stone.
Making quick work of cuffing their dazed suspect, the detectives looked around, trying to locate the origin of the coconut, but the pair of thieves had already slipped off into the flow of humanity that constantly populated the streets of New York.
After that, as they were sitting down to enjoy lunch at a small diner, they overheard the group at the booth behind them discussing the unsub they were in the process of tracking. It was pretty clear the odd little array of people, a somber dark hared man of about 40, a goateed man about ten years his senior, a thirty something African American man, a thin, twenty something young guy, a pretty brunette in her thirties and a twenty something blond woman, were federal agents.
Their conversation was freaky, as they were apparently in town tracking some very unpleasant killer. But since they were having a meal, they were not talking about their case. No, they were discussing unique and interesting serial killer profiles. When they got to Ed Gein, who wore the skin of the women he murdered, they beat a hasty retreat, really, really not wanting to hear any more.
The next incident was in the eight district, where several uniforms and a pair of detectives had roped off an area outside a small Italian Deli. A body, one on the owners, lay cooling on the side walk. There was quite a large crowd gathered, even by New York crime scene standards, and they soon discovered they were all watching one of the detectives.
They were a nice looking pair, him tall and blonde, her a petite brunette. The man wore sunglasses and had his head tilted to the side as he listened to his partner speaking quietly. Something about his stance, the way he held himself and gripped his partner's arm, never looking at the body struck the hitter as a bit odd. Eliot felt a jolt of surprise when he realized the man was blind, must be that cop he'd read about in the papers. The one who'd been shot and blinded in the line and sued to get back on the job. Good for him.
Eliot, like the rest of the crowd was staring off at the detective, so he was startled when Parker elbowed him in the ribs. He gave her a look that clearly asked what?
She gave him a wide eyed look, then, with a jerky nod, indicated he should look at the guy standing in front of them, right at the police tape. They couldn't see his face, but one of his hands was behind his back, under his coat, pushing it up and to the side. Tucked into his belt was a large knife, bright fresh blood staining the blade and the denim it touched.
Turning back to Parker, he mouthed You gotta be kidding me!
She shrugged expansively and mouthed I know!
With a sigh, he glanced back at the man, who was now fingering the blade in a disconcerting manner. The crowd was still riveted on the novelty of the blind detective, so Eliot made a move.
One quick, smooth motion, a leg pulled up to the chest then shot out with impressive force, and the knife wielding loony was sent flying at the uniformed cop manning the police tape. "Oh my God, he's got a knife!" Parker squealed in false fear.
Her words caused the crowd to scatter, and they drifted off into the distance, looking back once to see about three officers pinning nutso to the pavement.
In the 16th precinct they ran across a pair of detectives, a lovely brunette and burly, thick necked man, hauling a particularly sleazy looking guy out of an apartment building. The prisoner was loudly protesting this treatment, claiming, "The bitch is lying!"
Parker glared at the man as the detective stuffed him into a car. She really hated guys like that, but at least the male detective had bounced the jerks head off the door fame as he helped him in.
Not ten blocks away, they came across another cordoned off area, this one around a blown out shop front. Officers were guarding the scene and a group of techs were gathering bits of debris and evidence. A man with closely cropped brown hair was examining something a woman with a ton of brown curls had just pulled out of the wall, wile a small, blond guy seemed to be swabbing the remains of the window.
"Wonder what happened there?" Eliot mused as they passed, not to curious, but a bit unnerved by the number of crime scenes they'd happened upon.
"Acetone peroxide. 2 C9H18O6 + 21 O2 → 18 H2O + 18 CO2," Parker rattled off. "Someone didn't like that place."
Grabbing her arm, Eliot hustled them away, hoping no one had overheard that little comment.
The final straw that had them booking it back to the hotel, determined to wait out the rest of the day there until it was time to head out to the stadium was almost running into two detectives who were exiting the Frick Museum, discussing the art theft they were investigating. Eliot was just relieved he recognized Detective Bobby Goren and managed to dive behind a street cart before the man saw him.
Parker gave him a what are you doing look.
"That big cop over there," he said, causing her to glance over at the towering man and his petite partner, "I know him. Good guy. But they're looking into an art heist."
She nodded. "And you don't want them thinking you took the Goya and poking their noses into our business."
He nodded. "Would you be too upset if we went back to the hotel now?"
Her smile turned devilish. "Nope. We still have a few hours to kill. I have no problem with spending them in my room."
Taking her hand, he led her away from the museum. As they walked, he commented, "It's been a strange day."
TBC