Sidelines

[intheheart]

Title: Sidelines
Rating: PG-13 for swearing.
Summary: Felipe gets a call.
Date: December 29th, 2029
Notes: none.


Felipe's cell phone trilled a spirited version of Feliz Navidad.

Oh, fuck Zack, he thought, and grabbed for the phone, resolving to maim his partner as soon as he showed up. As if it wasn't enough that Zack had gone and disappeared into the night when he knew damn well they had a beat report to make (or would, if the captain ever got off the phone), he had to go and change the ringtone for his caller ID to something he knew Felipe hated. On Felipe's own goddamn phone. Felipe flipped it open with a quick motion of his wrist and put it to his ear.

"I'm gonna kill you, Ryan," he snapped.

"Get in line," Zack replied, sounding irritated and tired, and worryingly, a little frightened. "Someone just tried."

Felipe's ire melted away, or possibly just redirected itself to a new target. "What? Who? When? You okay?"

"I'm fine," Zack said. "Strictly speaking, he wasn't trying to kill me, he was trying to kill Doctor Kendall. Before you flip out, she is also fine." He paused, then muttered, "For a given definition of fine."

"Too late on the flipping out," Felipe said. "I refer you again to who and when. Add where for good measure."
Zack snorted. "Where as in where did he try to kill her, or where as in where am I now?"

"Both," Felipe said. "And answer fast, I have to talk to the captain in five."

"Who, beats the hell out of me. When... the first time was maybe half an hour ago, and he tried again about ten minutes ago. Where, the morgue lobby and then the front steps of her building. Where am I now..." He hesitated, then said, "Paige has my back. You'll forgive me if I don't get any more specific."

Felipe didn't see a reason to do any such thing. "I will not. Why the hell did you drag your sister into this? Where's Summer?"

Surprisingly, Zack didn't do that weird little growl thing that he usually did when Felipe called Summer by her given name. More than a bit annoying, since that was half the reason he used Summer's name in the first place-- also more than a little worrying, since that meant it must be serious.

"She's with me," Zack said, instead. "She's having some kind of nervous breakdown in the bathroom. Can't say as I blame her. As for Paige, I didn't drag her into anything. I really couldn't think of anywhere else to go. Besides, it isn't me they're targeting."

Felipe looked up at the ceiling and made a silent prayer for patience. "You fucking idiot, if she's having a breakdown why aren't you in there with her?"

"Because I was with her the whole taxi ride over here and it didn't seem to help any," Zack snapped. "And I thought it was kind of important to let you people know we weren't lying dead in a gutter somewhere. Can we get back to the part where someone tried to kill her?"

"Yeah," Felipe said, and scrambled for his notebook. He wrote faster than he typed, which was kind of strange these days-- heaven knew Zack made fun of him all the time for it-- but he'd never lost his notes to a computer virus. "You got a description?"

"Tall, black hair, blue eyes, has a gun," Zack said.

Felipe snorted, scribbling in his own improvised shorthand. "Man, and you bitch about witnesses. Do you have any idea how incredibly unhelpful you are?"

As he'd hoped, irritation sharpened Zack's memory along with his tone. "Caucasian male, six-one or six-two. Hadn't shaved in a couple of days, you know how guys do that when they think it makes them look rakish. Gun was a Glock, don't know what variant. He knew how to use it but I don't think he'd ever shot at people before. This is all the first guy, you understand. Could've been a second shooter at the house. I never saw anybody."

"Better," Felipe said, and nodded impatiently at the captain, who'd poked her head out of her office and was gesturing him in. "You swear she's okay?"

"My hand to God," Zack said. "She's physically unhurt. I'm going to go try and talk her out of the bathroom. Hey, speaking of witnesses, I sent you a taxi driver. Hakam Agarwal. He's really pissed off and he wants to punch somebody, so naturally I thought of you."

"Thanks ever so," Felipe said. "He get shot at, then?"

"Eh," Zack said, and Felipe knew he was shrugging. "The second time. I remind you that they were trying to kill Dr. Kendall. The driver and I were bonuses."

"Five points if you waste a bystander," Felipe murmured. "Okay. Stay there. Don't get shot. I gotta talk to the captain and see about getting you some fucking backup."

Zack snorted. "About fucking time. Hey, Mish was on the scene the first time. Talk to her for more statements. I don't think there was anyone else around the second time but talk to the neighbors, you might get lucky."

"Hey," Felipe said, getting up. The captain's motioning was becoming less impatient and more downright pissed. "Why don't you teach me how to do my job. No, really, I pine to sit at your feet and learn."

"Fuck you," Zack said, but there was no heat in it. "Go talk to the captain. Save my ass. I'll keep Dr. Kendall out of trouble and bring her in tomorrow."

"Yeah, you do that." Felipe hesitated, then added, "Tell her we've got her back, would you? I know it probably won't help since she got shot at, but, you know. It could."

"Can't hurt," Zack said. "You were right, by the way, I'm an asshole, but we'll talk about that later. Unless I get shot."

Felipe stopped halfway across the hallway. "Do not get shot! I mean it, Ryan! I'll fucking kill you if you do! And don't get her shot either, because if she gets shot I will kill you twice."

"So nice to be appreciated," Zack said. "Go talk to the captain." He hung up.

Felipe contemplated murder, but decided that future homicide detectives should probably not start their careers by featuring in a case file. At any rate, from the captain's thunderous expression, any homicides occurring in the next thirty seconds would involve him as the victim.

"Captain," he said. "That was Officer Ryan, and he is up to his ass in alligators. Sir."

"Tell me something I don't know," the captain said, but the fury was underpinned by worry, now. "Get in here and we'll talk."