COPS: New York

By: Blue

Summary: In a very twisted crossover, the camera crew from COPS follows Sara and company for a few hours.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I don't own them or season 2 would have been a lot better than it was…

Author's note: Credit, or perhaps blame, goes to Kameka as well as my muses who are currently toked on Nyquil.

Timeline: Whenever *shrug*

Spoilers: Oh, yeah… far too many to list, from both season. Look out below and let the insanity commence!

COPS: New York

Announcer: Due to the graphic nature of this program, viewer discretion is advised.

(Images of Sara having a sword-fight with Ian, Danny and Jake chasing down a suspect, Ian jumping from a 6-story building and hitting the ground running, & Gabe grinning shyly at the camera as "Bad Boys" plays)

Female in Voice-over: "132 and Bush, I've got him at swordpoint."

Male Voice: "Um, Pez?"
Female: "Gunpoint! I've got him at gunpoint, Danny, just get you butt to 132 and Bush already!"

Male voice 2: "Sounds like Pez is at it again."

Female voice 2: "Yup, Pezzini always gets the weird ones…"

Announcer: "Cops is filmed on location with the men and women of law-enforcement…"


Scene: Morgue. Brown-haired woman looks up from the body she'd dissecting, cigarette hanging out of her mouth.

"Yeah, death by decapitation." Vicky nodded. "You want interesting in this city? You shadow Woo and Pezzini and I swear to you, you will get prime footage. They always get the interesting ones." She walked across the morgue and dropped her cigarette into a beaker full of embalming fluid.

"Woo and Pezzini?" the camera-man asked.

"Yeah, Danny and Sara." She pointed as the door opened behind the camera-man. "Speak of the devil. Evening, guys."

Danny spared the camera man a distasteful glance as he entered. Behind him, Sara did her best to stay out of frame in spite of the camera-man's efforts to the contrary, as Jake ran his fingers through his hair.

"Danny, Sara, and their rookie, Jake," Vicky introduced them. "Guys, this is Ed."

"Hey, I'm only officially a rookie for another month!" Jake protested.

"Yeah, whatever…" Vicky shook her head and pulled out another cigarette.

"Cause of death?" Danny asked, ignoring Ed.

"Um, just a guess here, Danny," Sara said, "But judging by the fact that the body's on this table and the head's on that one…"

Vicky nodded and pointed at Sara. "We have a winner. Ladies and gentlemen, Sara Pezzini. Tell her what she's won!"

"A whole crap-load of paperwork," Sara muttered, shaking her head.

"You got it, Pez." Danny grinned. "And you are welcomed to it." He looked up at Vicky. "So, decapitation is the actual cause of death."

"Oh, yeah." Vicky nodded and pulled back the sheet, ignoring Ed's retching. "Clean cut, too. Something very sharp did this. Oh, and we found some more of that weird metal in the wounds."

"You don't say?" Sara asked uncomfortably.

Vicky nodded. "Yeah. It's actually pretty similar to the metal in that bracelet of yours," she provided helpfully.

"Man, I told you!" Jake said to Danny. "Bracelet turned into a sword."

"Um, right, Jake." Danny nodded and took a judicious step away from the rookie. "Cause, you know, that's just the latest rage in jewelry."

"So, Sara, where's the pirate?" Vicky asked curiously.

She shrugged. "Stalking someone else tonight, I guess."

"Ah, fair Sara, you wound me!" Ian announced, walking into the morgue, impeccably attired in a gray suit, his hair neatly slicked back.

"Damn, not the suit again…" Sara muttered, shaking her head. "Here's a thought, Ian. Why don't you just save us both a lot of time and agony and tell me who you hired to kill me this week?"

Ian shrugged. "800 number on the back of Soldier of Fortune. Guy calling himself Ronin"

"You're slipping, Nottingham," Sara told him, rolling her eyes and nodding towards the head on the far table.

"Damn. And the deposit was non-refundable!" Throwing up his hands, he shook his head, looking remarkably like Kenneth Irons. He glanced at the camera-man. "What's with the peasant?" he asked casually as Danny gave Sara a questioning look.

"Oh, we're going to be on TV," Jake supplied. "Cops."

"Ah, I see." Ian glared menacingly at Ed. "I was never here!" he announced brusquely as he walked out.

"Freak…" Sara muttered, shaking her head. She looked at Ed. "You're not going to air that, are you, 'cause…"

Ed shrugged. "I just shoot the footage. You're going to want to talk to the editor about what does and does not get on air. Sorry, Detective."

"Yeah, whatever." Sara shook her head.

"I like him better with his hair down," Vicky contributed, fumbling with her lighter. "Damn, out of fluid… One of you got a light?"

"Here." Danny tossed her his Zippo.

All three stared at him.

"Since when do you smoke?" Sara asked.

"I don't." Danny shrugged. "But, you know, comes in useful sometimes. Premature burial, things like that." He glanced at Ed as Vicky handed him his lighter back. "Oh, and that guy who just left… Just keep walking if you've got a pizza in hand, because the guy is serious about his pizza. Once tried to kill me over one, I kid you not."

Sara tapped Danny on the shoulder. "Actually, I think he was just trying to impress me."

"What, no late-night florists?" Jake scoffed, recoiling as Danny and Sara both glared at him. "Shutting up now."

"Was it New York or Chicago?" Vicky asked.

"Like you need to ask?" Danny shook his head. "New York, double cheese, double pepperoni, extra sauce."

Sara nodded in obvious approval. "Breakfast of champions right there," she told Ed.

"Breakfast?" Jake repeated, frowning.

Sara shook her head. "Ignore him. Still not used to third-shift."

"Nah, it's the swing-shifts that get me," Jake said, shaking his head.

"Swing shift, Detective McCarty?" an amused voice asked from the door. Ian entered again, dressed all in black this time, his hair down and beard a lot scruffier than it had looked five minutes previously. "How interesting that you should mentioning swinging when I've heard--"

"Hey!" Jake snapped, advancing on him, fist raised.

"Hey!" Sara shouted, grabbing Jake by the wrist and pulling him away from Ian, who was regarding Sara with a lovelorn expression. "Both of you knock it off!"

Danny shook his head and confided to Ed, "NYPD's an equal-opportunity employer. Doesn't discriminate on the basis of race." He pointed to himself, then jerked his head in Jake's direction, "Or sexual orientation," he added in an undertone.

"Hey!" Jake protested.

"Come on, Detective," Ian said in a low voice. "We all saw you at the Badlands kissing that guy."

"Actually, Nottingham, that was me in drag," Sara told him.

"Huh?" Danny and Jake asked at the same time, frowning.

"Peasants," Ian scoffed, leaving.

"What's his problem?" Danny asked.

"Got a week?" Sara asked. Her eyes glazed over as the Witchblade forced a vision of the previous season on her.

"She, um, gets like this sometimes," Danny explained to Ed with a shrug. "But she's a great cop, really."

"Yeah." Jake nodded. "And her fighting skills are… supernatural."

"Enough with the season 1 flashbacks," a woman snapped, leaning into the morgue. "They get old really fast! Now, which way did Ian go?"

"Which one, Cyn?" Vicky asked.

The woman's face lit up. "I get a choice?" she asked, grinning widely.

"Suit left stage left, scruffy left stage right," Ed provided. "They twins?"

"Clones," Cyn provided, exiting stage left. "Oh, hey, Gabe," she added as a young man entered the morgue.

"Hey, Cyn," Gabe said cheerfully. "When you see Kattie, tell her I want more comfortfic."

"Yeah, good luck." Cyn shook her head. "She's all about aliens right now for some reason."

"Deep." Gabe nodded. "Tell her I can get her a cut rate on a Vardian weapon of mass-destruction in exchange for certain… favors."

"Comfortfic where something actually happens with you and Sara?" Cyn said, nodding. "I'll pass the message along, but no promises…"

"Thanks. Oh, and thanks for letting me survive 'Blind Faith' in one piece. I was worried there for a minute when Ian broke into my shop…"

"Yeah, not a problem. You're too cute to damage. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go catch Ian, bounce some ideas off of him…"

"More telepathic sex?" an eager voice asked. A gloved hand was rested on Cyn's arm.

She turned around, grinning. "If you're a good boy," she purred, walking off with Ian. "Of course, I was thinking maybe the real thing, this time. And it's time to ditch the gloves…"

"You think?"

"Oh, yeah. But… maybe keep the leather," she suggested with a grin, sliding her arm around his waist as they walked.

Gabe grinned and shook his head, entering the morgue. "Hey… Pez." He sighed, looking at Sara where she stood rigidly in the center of the morgue. Someone had decked her out with tinsel, some Christmas ornaments, and a little paper hat made from today's New York Times. "She in a trance again?" he asked, pulling out a pair of oversized sunglasses and perching them on top of her head. He stepped back to contemplate the effect, then nodded to himself and returned his attention to the others.

"Eight minutes and counting," Vicky told him.

Gabe sighed. "Figures." He turned to Danny. "What am I translating this time?"

Danny handed him an evidence bag with a photo of graffiti, written on a brick wall in blood. "Welsh," Gabe announced, nodding. "Vic, you got a magnifying glass?"

As Gabe and Vicky went looking for a magnifying glass, Danny explained to Ed, "Gabe here's a connection of Sara's. Weird kid, but great with languages."

"I don't think weird begins to describe him," Jake contributed. "Although his taste in babes…" He grinned and made a thumbs-up gesture at the camera, winking.

"What would you know about my taste in babes, McCarty?" Gabe scoffed, looking up from his translation attempts. "We all know that you spend your nights off at the Badlands. Why do you even bother to pretend?" Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the picture.

"What the hell?" Jake demanded. "Is there some gay guy who looks just like me running around the city?"

"If there were, you'd probably be going steady," Gabe scoffed. He looked up from his translations and walked over to Sara, shaking her out of her trance.

Jake looked at Danny. "Okay, that does not count in the betting-pool. That was interference…"

Danny shook his head and extended his hand. "Pay up, rookie."

"Sara, this writing mentions the Witchblade."

"What's a Witchblade?" Ed asked, turning the camera from Danny and Jake to Gabe and Sara.

Gabe looked up, noticing Ed for the first time. "Hey, what's with the camera?" he asked as Sara began pulling off ornamentation and muttering under her breath.

"They're filming an episode of COPS," Vicky told him.

"Cool!" Gabe grinned and waved at the camera, saying "Hi, mom!" in seven languages before turning his attention back to Sara. "So the writing mentions the Witchblade…"

"What's a Witchblade?" Ed repeated.

"Um, ancient weapon. Takes the form of a bracelet most of the time," Gabe supplied, not noticing Sara's frantic head-shaking. "Kind of a cross between a Swiss-army knife and complete Ginsu set. It turns into armor, a sword, brass knuckles, toothpick, and there's some mention in the more ancient texts that it can serve as a can-opener, too." He grinned and repeated "Hi, mom!" in Swiss and Japanese before turning back to Sara. "So, like I was saying…"

"Yeah, Gabe, ancient weapon that does not exist." Sara nodded. "Got that."

Gabe frowned at Sara for a minute, then glanced back at Ed. "Right!" he agreed, nodding. "Ancient weapon that does not exist." He grinned at Ed. "No such thing as a Witchblade. Definitely never belonged to Ken Irons…"

"Can-opener?" Sara asked in a low voice.

"Yeah." Gabe nodded. "Just dug that one up. Guess you haven't checked your machine today…"

"Haven't had time, no."

"Ah." Gabe nodded. "Can-opener, yeah." He handed the evidence-bag back to Danny. "So, the writing on the wall says that the owner of this non-existent weapon should randomly select a number between one and eight--"

"You're kidding?" Sara asked.

Gabe shook his head. "Not at all. Got an email confirmation from Cyberfaust on this, too. The owner of this non-existent weapon should randomly pick a number between one and eight and meet that Isaac Sullivan in Central park on Monday at 9/8 Central."

Vicky glanced at Ed. "See? Woo and Pezzini always get the strange ones."

"What time is it?" Sara asked softly.

"About ten minutes until 9/8 Central," Gabe supplied.

Sara nodded and backed towards the door. "I'm going to get some… fresh air now…"

Gabe nodded and started to follow. "I'll join you."

"So, if you had to randomly select a number between one and eight?" Sara asked him.

"Your horoscope says it's a good day for the number three," Danny called after her as Gabe ushered her out. Danny glanced at Ed. "Weird friends, but she's really a great cop. Saved my life when her stalker buried me alive…" Noticing that Ed was occupied getting footage of Sara's retreating form and the tight jeans said form was crammed into, Danny patiently waited before finishing his narrative.


"Another camera-man?" Sara demanded as she pulled her Buell onto an empty patch of grass in Central Park.

Gabe, who had been riding behind her climbed off with a shrug. "So, Kattie and Kameka are both thinking comfortfic," he told her.

She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand upwards. "Not while you have that scar…"

"You're no fun."

"Oh, look, it's the Isaacs." Sara glared at the brothers. "Did you gentlemen need something?"



"You," they replied, one after another.

"Everyone has a fantasy," another added, smiling at Gabe.

"What's yours?" yet another asked.

"Um, I believe one of you is about to get into a fight to the death with her," Gabe said, smiling. He grinned at the cameraman. "Gabriel Bowman, proprietor of Talismanic, an off-the-beaten-track shop for talismans, artifacts, relics, etc."


"Really? Your name's Bob?" Sara asked, glancing at him. "Because I recently worked a case involving a drug called Bob."

"That's right." Gabe nodded and smiled slyly at her. "Asphixophilia…" He winked. "Not that I know anything about that, but…"

"That's why you've got all those websites bookmarked," Sara muttered with a sly grin.

"We like you," one of the Isaacs told Gabe.

"Back off!" Sara snapped, the Witchblade transforming into a sword.

"Backing now." The Isaacs turned and fled into the night.

"You mean I drove all this way for nothing!" Sara shouted after them. "Through New York city traffic! Damn!" She shook her head in disgust, kicking a rock. She looked up at Bob. "So, you been doing this long?" she asked curiously, noticing his tattoos and long hair and approving.

"Hey, pale erudite types!" Gabe protested.

Sara shook her head. "Right, Gabe, sorry. Why don't you tell Bob here all about your Velcro office accessories?" she suggested.

"One of my guns is named Bob," a child-like voice came from the shadows.

"Bola?" Sara and Gabe asked, frowning and turning to face her.

"Bob?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mmm-hmm." Bola smiled and nodded, pulling out her two, rather large-bore guns. "This one's Winnona, and this one is Bob." She grinned. "After my first two kills."

Sara smiled uneasily. "Isn't that lovely, dear…"

Bola nodded absently and glanced at the cameraman. "Did you say your name was Bob?"

"Dave!" he replied quickly.

"Ah." Bola pouted for a moment, then turned to walk off.

"Bola," Sara called after her.

"Yes, Sara?" Bola asked.

"Didn't you… That is… aren't you… a pile of dust?"

"Well, I was, but it got boring fast." She shrugged. "You know how it is…"

"Not really." Sara shook her head. "Although I'm sure you're right…"

"Sounds boring," Gabe agreed.

Bola nodded. "Incredibly. We still on for Tuesday?"

Sara stared at Gabe, incredulous.

"What?" He shrugged. "She's helping me with my accent, okay. It's no big deal. I mean… she's a little old for me, Chief."

"Old?" Bob repeated.

"Don't ask," all three suggested at once.

"Not asking," Bob assured them.

"Shouldn't you be running along home now, Bola?" a low voice asked from the shadows.

Sara closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. "Hello again, Nottingham."

"Flesh and blood, Sara," the black-clad Ian purred, stepping from the shadows and into the camera's light. He was clean-shaven, his hair slicked back, and his face was fixed in an unnerving grin. He rested one hand lightly on Bola's shoulder. "Run along home now, dear. You can play with your toys later…"

Bola pouted for a moment. "Can I at least watch the Sci-Fi channel for a few hours? I swear, that was the worst part of the 17-hundreds. No sci-fi. None!"

"Hey, at least there were public executions, Bola," Ian 2.0 pointed out gently, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "We must be happy for what we have…"

"Yeah, it was, like, the reality programming of the age," Gabe pointed out.

Sara nodded. "Yeah, 'no Survivor'."

"Dude, that was my line," Gabe protested.

"Sorry." Sara shrugged.

Ian 2.0 shook his head. "You should run along now, Bola. It's a school-night."

"I've been graduated for 200 years," she pointed out, rolling her eyes.

"Now," Ian 2.0 said in a low voice.

"Yes, uncle Ian." Shaking her head, she turned and stomped off.

"Uncle Ian?" Sara repeated, staring.

"Well, I've taught the girl a few things about… oh, various subjects. Blind rage, pure hatred…" His smile widened as he spotted Gabriel. "Earthly bonds…"

Gabe quickly stepped behind Sara. "Yeah, just back off, pal!" he snapped, rubbing his neck defensively.

Ian smiled more widely, closing on Sara, moving like a panther. "Flesh and blood."

"You know, that's just sick, Uncle Ian!" Gabe told him. "I mean call Jerry Springer, because that is… sick."

Ian smiled benignly at Gabe. "So am I," he said gently. "Sara. Good evening." With a bow, he left.

"I'd call him a freak, but he'd consider it a compliment," a low voice murmured from the shadows.

Sara spun again, to see Ian, again, stepping out of the shadows, this time clad in a black sleeveless tee, his hair in braids.

"There's one in every family, isn't there?" he sighed, shaking his head. "Hello again, young Mister Bowman."

"Hey." Gabe nodded uneasily. "Still working on getting that… thing."

Ian nodded absently. "Of course. Take your time. Always bearing in mind that the sooner I get the love-charm the more you get paid…"

"Love-charm?" Sara repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Ian nodded. "Yes, for fair Aras."

"Isn't that Sara spelled backwards?" Gabe asked.

"Is it?" Ian shrugged, smiling benignly. His smile wavered. "Not now, father!" He snapped, shaking his head violently. He dropped to his knees in front of Sara. "Have you ever loved someone--"

She cut him off with a sigh. "Relax, Nottingham. Your hired killer's already getting cold on one of Vic's slabs."

"Two, actually," Gabe added, grinning.

Ian sighed and kissed her hand. "That's a relief." He smiled and rose. "Good evening, Sara. Young Mister Bowman."

"Twins?" Bob asked as Ian half-skipped off.

"Clones," Gabe and Sara said together.

"Weird," Bob said, shrugging.

"Yeah, like being stalked by clones is as weird…" She trailed off, her eyes glazing over.

"Ah, not again!" Gabe groaned, shaking her. "Sara!" he shouted when she did not respond.

She shook her head, looking disoriented. "Huh? Oh, Gabe. Hi. How long have you… what's with the cameraman?"

"We're on COPS," Gabe supplied.

"Right. And we're in central park because."

Gabe shrugged. "She had a reason at some point."


"The writer."

"Writer?" Sara frowned at him.

"Forget it," Gabe suggested gently, taking her arm. "Let's get you back to the precinct."

"Right." Sara nodded and allowed herself to be led off.

As Bob started to follow, a hand on his shoulder restrained him. "I'll give you three hundred for footage of her naked," a low voice hissed.

"Three hundred bucks? I think not, pal." Bob shook his head.

"Three hundred thousand," Ian clarified.

"I'll see what I can do."

"And I was never here," Ian added, vanishing back into the shadows. "Peasant!"


"So Dante says, 'we call ourselves the White Bulls' and asks me what the bull symbolizes to me," Jake was telling Danny and Vicky. "And I say, 'crap?'"

Vicky shook her head and helped herself to another cigarette.

"Hey, how'd the showdown go?" Danny asked.

"Showdown?" Sara repeated blankly. "We went for fresh air."

"Three hours worth?" Jake scoffed. "Come on. You two found a broom-closet somewhere…"

"Yeah, like you and Bruce?" Gabe demanded.

"Hey!" Sara snapped, smacking him on the back of the head. "I can defend my own honor, thanks!" She shook her head. "Jeez, you're worse than Nottingham."

"Which one?" Danny asked.

"Yeah." Jake nodded. "There were at least three here looking for you while you were gone…"

"Really?" Sara asked, affecting polite interest. She shook her head and muttered, "Not now, Irons!"

"Face it, Sara," Danny said in a strangely accented voice. "I'm a hard man to get rid of."

Sara sighed and backhanded him. "Welcome back and I'm sorry," she muttered over her shoulder, stalking off. "God, if he were not already dead…"

"Oh, that reminds me," Gabe said to Danny. "Guy named Cyberfaust emailed me and said that he wants to start paying you rent for some reason…"

Danny frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then shook his head. "Never heard of him."

"Hmm." Gabe shrugged. "Okay."

The alarm on Danny's watch went off. "Damn, it's Tuesday," he muttered. "Got to go."

"What's Tuesday?" Gabe asked.

"Sex with Lee," Jake told him.

"Yeah, I wish," Danny called over his shoulder. "Now it's morning sickness." He shook his head and wandered off.

"You people are strange," Ed said softly.

"Yeah, that's what Bob said," Gabe agreed, nodding.

Vicky shrugged. "I don't think we're strange. Do you think we're strange, Jake?"

Jake considered for a moment, shaking his head. "Don't think so. Gabe?"

"Strange? Us?" Gabe scoffed and shook his head. "Nah!"

Vicky nodded. "Thought not. So, Gabe, get any good head lately?"

"Yeah, actually." Gabe grinned and nodded enthusiastically. "Got in a shipment of three shrunken heads today."

Vicky smiled and nodded. "Cool."

"Yeah. You guys want to come take a look?"

Jake grinned. "Hey, a guy can never have too much head."

"Jerk," Vicky muttered. "Come on, Gabe."

"Face it, man." Gabe shrugged and offered his arm to Vicky who accepted it with a smile. "They go for the pale, erudite guys over the Baywatch boys every time…" He winked over his shoulder. "Could be because we make more in a year than you will in a life-time, surfer-boy."

"Hey!" Jake protested.

Gabe grinned. "It's okay, man. It's a perfectly acceptable life-style these days, you know…"

"I am not…" Jake trailed off, shaking his head. "Why do I bother?"

"Not a clue," one of the Isaacs said, walking into the morgue. He smiled benignly at Jake. "Everybody has a fantasy. What's yours?"

Jake sighed. "Walk with me and I'll tell you all about it…"

"Hey, Isaac! Hey, Jake!"

Jake recoiled from the female voice, horrified. "Not you again," he groaned, shaking his head.

Isaac smiled absently. "Hello, Kameka. Think you can get me in on the 'Deaths and Humiliations' series?"

Jake jerked away from Isaac. "That's it! I'm going to the Badlands, where a man like me is appreciated."


Male voice 2: "Her fighting skills are supernatural…"

(Closing montage of some of Sara's more amazing fights: the massacre at the Rialto, fighting Father Del Toro, fighting the Isaacs, fighting Christina, fighting Ian, fighting Irons, fighting Ian, fighting Moby, fighting Aras, you get the point… And, because it's not an episode of COPS without it, Danny and Jake chasing down a shirtless suspect. Oh, and Danny without a shirt doing his Kata on general principle, 'cause… meYOW!)

(Closing credits, Voice-over)

Female in Voice-over: "132 and Bush, I've got him at swordpoint."

Male Voice: "Um, Pez?"
Female: "Gunpoint! I've got him at gunpoint, Danny, just get you butt to 132 and Bush already!"

Male voice 2: "Sounds like Pez is at it again."

Female voice 2: "Yup, Pezzini always gets the weird ones…"

Announcer: "COPS was filmed on location with the men and women of law-enforcement…"

The End