It Must Be the Donuts
Chapter 2- Get A Clue
The phone rang at an ungodly hour. John blearily rolled over and answered it. "John." It was his partner.
"We gotta go check out this crime scene. Some guy was shot ten times, and his you-know-what was cut off."
John groaned, and Fin, laughing, said, "Yeah, we all know you like getting up at five in the morning."
"You bet. It's one of my favorite pastimes, you know, getting an average of four hours of sleep."
"Whatever. Just march your skinny ass down to the precinct and we'll head out."
"Sure… Hey, is Olivia wearing that tight little tank she always has on in the mornings?"
"Man… that's just wrong."
Munch grinned. "Okay, see you then, Finny!"
"Finny? The last person that called me that did some serious time… in the hospital."
"Sure. Bye Finny." Munch hung up the phone, and optimistically threw open the wooden doors to his closet, with a smile. Blazer, dress shirt, ties, slacks… "I don't want to wear that crap… Why would anybody want to wear that?" John said aloud to himself. He shook his head and headed over to the wooden dresser, and pulled out some leather pants. "Now," he said, "We're in for business." He beamed once more and began dressing himself in odd articles of clothing.
He was stunning, a starlet! Or so he thought, as he confidently strutted through the doors of the 1-6.
John Munch was clothed in a casual white t-shirt and a red and white Hawaiian shirt over it. He also had long, tight, black leather pants that constricted his movement, and dark aviator sunglasses. The red and black flip-flops he had on his feet completed his look- a total idiot.
People parted before him like the Red Sea. Mouths dropped in awe. So did cups of coffee. "What the hell are you wearing?" Elliot asked, inquiring about his odd choice of clothing. Olivia stood beside him, looking just as perplexed.
John said nothing as he continued to swagger towards his desk, and once more ignored the mound of papers on it that grew larger by the hour. He plopped down in his seat, and arrogantly sipped the cup of coffee he had picked up on the way to the precinct. Then, he set the cup on the desk (he had to find room first) and placed his feet on top of the papers. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.
No sooner than he had settled in, he was promptly removed from his relaxed state by Fin, who had grabbed him from under his arms and whisked him out of his seat. "What're you doing? We gotta get outta here! And what's that?" Fin said, looking at his attire.
John gasped in mock surprise. "Finny? Oh… you must not have gotten the memo. Today is Hawaiian shirt day," Munch said proudly, placing his hands on his hips and grinning profusely.
"Whatever, you freak. Let's just go before notices you," Fin said, and they began to walk back out of the precinct.
"Why can't Elliot and Olivia go?" John whined.
"Ass duty. Long story… don't ask." Fin said. They both glanced behind them at the duo, which had yet to finish their work, as they were now having a paper ball fight.
"Those two really go at it, huh?" Munch asked, turning back around.
"Yeah." Fin replied shortly, becoming bored of the conversation.
"Fin, how come we're not close like that?" John asked, throwing his arm around Fin.
"Get your damn hands 'offa me! The hell's matter with you?" Fin said brushing John's hand off his shoulder.
John smiled. He knew exactly how to get under his partner's skin.
"Well, this is excellent," Fin said sarcastically as the squad car they were in feebly sat in the middle of the street. For three minutes, Fin had haplessly tried to restart the engine, to no avail. The car had earlier sputtered out as they were making their way to the crime scene. Miraculously, there hadn't been any traffic, except one car behind them, in which the driver had decided to continuously honk his horn ineffectively.
"Shut up, will ya?" John yelled, sticking his head out of the window. The portly man honked the horn some more.
"Drive around, asshole!" John bellowed. The red Taurus stopped honking and drove around them.
Just then, as Fin proceeded to fumble with the car, it finally jumped back to life. "Sweet!" John exclaimed as they drove away from the street. Fin raised his eyebrows questionably at his youthful choice of words.
"What? I can't say 'sweet'?" John asked innocently. Fin just shook his head and continued to drive. There was something definitely weird about John lately. Something he couldn't0 quite put his finger on. Fin inwardly decided that somehow, he would get to the bottom of it…