Wednesday, April 6, 2005

   Prologue:
[myOtaku Presents . . .]

"They're sure taking their sweet time to get up here," Cream mused while he and the others sat around the table in the precinct lunchroom. Nougat was already leveling his hands in the direction of the hallway out of the lunchroom, his fingers pointed into the shape of an imaginary pistol and lips curled in a mischievous grin. Pastille, the only constable at the table with the two sergeants, sat up straight as the far off noise got louder.
"So that was them I heard singing 'We Are The Champions' all through the precinct as I walked here?" he asked.
"Without a doubt," Nougat answered. "Guess they're happy with their work . . ."

[A SomeGuy Story . . .]

Within the next minute, the detachment of squad members rounded the hallway and burst into the lunchroom. All the officers in the room couldn't help but notice and smile a little - fact of the matter was the three people entering just looked ridiculous swinging their arms together and skipping while bleating their voices out in song.
"Alright you humps," Nougat said, "siddown and let's hear it." Losanje sat herself on the corner of the table while Ruit and Raute took up chairs on either side of her.
"Operation was a success in every sense of the word, boss!" Raute said cheerfully. At that, the other two constables had to holler and cheer again.

"Okay," Cream started, "so you were outside the apartment last we heard . . ."
"Yup," Raute responded, "then we gave them the warning to open the door . . ."
"You mean I gave the warning, right?" Losanje popped in.
"Right, right, she gave the warning, they didn't answer, so we banged in with the ERT guys behind us." Raute was still going through ramming-motions with his arms while Ruit picked up the story.
"So yeah, we all rush in, guns drawn, shouting and stuff like the good officers we are," he said while Nougat and Cream both pretended to laugh at the 'good officers' comment. "Anyway, no one was home except for the wind and the toilet . . . well, they were the ones that reponded with anything remotely similar to a sound, anyway." Nougat raised an eyebrow.
"Ya might need to elaborate on that, I think," he suggested.
"Alright, it's like this," Losanje said. "So the toilet's flushing and the wind is blowing through the hall. So the R-boys haul ass to the kitchen where the breeze is coming from while I hoof it to the bathroom. The poor moron was trying to flush the evidence, but was too much of a retard to not take the stuff out of the big bag - so yeah, I scare the piss out of him, probably making him piss himself, and got the Cryssal out of the can before it was too late."
"Nice, nice," Cream added in quickly.

"Yeah," Losanje continued, "meanwhile, the other cockbite was trying to chuck the documents and stuff out the window, but the apartments were so friggin' crappy that the windows wouldn't even open right!" Ruit cut in quickly before Losanje could continue.
"Hey, this is our part of the story let us tell it!" Losanje scoffed.
"Killjoys . . ." The sergeants just grinned.

"Anyway," Ruit said, "the guy had broken the glass with a piece of pipe or something, and in his hurry to toss stuff out the window was cutting up his arms really bad . . . it didn't take much to convince him to stop."
"Did he get any of it out?" Pastille asked.
"Yeah, a bit," Ruit answered, "but we did have officers on the street backing us up . . . so yeah, they got those bits for us."
"Wow," Cream said, "this was one damn clean bust." Raute beamed and smiled.
"Yup. Clean, quick, and safe."

The table was still buzzing with energy as the informal debriefing went on. Just as they were upon entering, the three constables continued to be the center of attention in the fairly large lunchroom. By the time Ruit, Raute and Losanje had moved aside some empty tables and were acting out their various anecdotes on the floor, Nougat's pager brought him out of the lunchroom's insanity.
"Hey Whip," he said, poking his partner with his foot, "lemme borrow your phone for a sec, I got paged." Cream unclipped his cell and handed it over without a second thought; Nougat then went off to a quieter area of the room.

"Ack! Hey, you never did that!" Ruit forced out while Losanje cinched tighter on the ankle-lock she had on the other officer.
"I'm just sayin', this is what I would've done if the cockbite tried to run!" she said back in between her laughs. Pastille had already gotten up to apply another joint lock on the immobilised Ruit; Cream was tempted to join in with the wrestling as well, but thought better of it. It was then that Nougat came back to return the younger detective's phone.
"You handle these idiots, I gotta jet," Nougat said quickly.
"Is it Sprinkle?" Cream asked before the older officer turned around.
"No . . . no, it's something else, don't worry about it . . ." Nougat gave a quick nod before turning around and left the lunchroom. Amid Ruit's groans, Cream sat confused at his partner's hasty exit. Concern quickly followed along with the confusion.


* * * * * * * *


Nougat unlocked the door to the office and clicked on the lights. The office seemed especially quiet and solitary, especially after leaving the riot in the lunchroom. He walked around the double-desks to the file stacks in the back. His eyes paused for a moment when they passed across the photos sitting on top of the cabinet. On the left was a picture of himself, Cream, and the rest of the Cryssal team in uniform, trying to look as stern and serious as possible - he was actually amazed at how well they actually pulled it off, considering the personalities behind the faces. In the center was a shot of the two detectives and 'Mel in the office. They were flexing in the various positions of the classic Hulk Hogan poses: Cream with his arm outstretched, Nougat with his arms flexed to his side, and 'Mel standing between them in the full forward crunch. Nougat had to laugh quickly to himself as he always did when he saw that picture.

On the right was a slightly older photo: it was of Nougat and his former partner Henry, arms over each other's shoulders. Again, the detective smiled and sighed. That was the last pause, however, and he proceeded to unlock the bottom drawer. After opening it and sifting through the various files for a short while, he found the files he wanted and brought it to the desk. Nougat took a seat in his chair and lightly patted off the bit of dust that had collected on the folder before setting it on the desk.

Inside the folder were papers Nougat had not seen for the better part of the year. He turned to the small fax machine in the office to receive the new bits of info he had been recently sent and compared them to the notes and papers he already had. As he flipped through the files, another photo showed itself between the leafs. Again, Nougat softly wiped the thin layer of dust off the picture and paused as he looked once again. It was a photo of himself about ten years earlier sitting in a pub with his old squad. The old memories dared to break out back into his current mindset as he gazed at each smiling face one by one; he could only sigh once again.

He took another breath before getting back to work . . .
"Ah, Flint . . . . ."


Nougat: Origins


(Hehe . . . . . curious yet?)
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