Title: "Send in the Clowns"

Author: PonchoLives

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, I'd make George Eads cut his hair.

Summary: Sparks aren't the only thing that fly when Nick and Sara investigate a dead body. One shot.

Author's Note: This was written in response to Kimonkey7's April Fool's Bad Fic Challenge. That says it all.

The night was chilly, as chilly as a night in mid-winter, which was odd because it was only October so it shouldn't have been so cold and yet it was as cold as a night in mid-winter, which was odd.

'This is odd.' Nick thought to himself as he walked underneath the tape. 'It's as cold as a night in mid-winter.'

He turned to Sara, who was walking beside him. "It's oddly cold tonight."

"Yeah, you'd think it was mid-winter or something." Sara replied, her case swinging idly in her hand.

She turned towards her coworker and smiled playfully, making Nick's heart start to pound rapidly. How he loved her! Part of him wanted to take her right here and right now, but the other part of him stopped him for doing something like that in the middle of a crime scene would be inappropriate and they might get arrested for indecent exposure and then they'd lose their jobs and then Sara would hate him and therefore, not date him so then he'd be unemployed and single and right before the holiday season too. With a sigh at this thought, Nick followed Sara inside the bank. As one, they walked towards Detective Brass, who met them halfway.

"These guys made out like bandits. Must of taken close to $3 million. The body's in the vault." Brass said, pointing the in direction of the vault. "Coroner's already there."

Nick walked towards the vault in silence, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand. Murder was no laughing matter - not something to be taken lightly. Someone's life had been cut short unfairly and it was his job to find the person responsible and bring them to justice. He was their final voice because they were dead and dead people can't talk anymore so he had to do it for them. He was the victim's champion, which, in a way, made him kinda like a super hero except that he didn't have any super powers or the cool spandex outfit complete with a matching cape that made a man feel more macho in spite of the fact that he was wearing tights.

"Well, this is a tad out of the ordinary." Nick said as his eyes fell upon the scene laid out before them. He raised his hand to try and rid himself of the pungent odor of fried human flesh that assualted his olfactory senses as he watched David hunch over the body. The victim was stretched out on the floor, clad in a black suit. He looked like he belonged in a kung-fu movie except for the red curly wig and the clown make-up he was wearing.

"It's Bruce Lee meets Bozo the Clown." Nick said, unable to completely hide the smile on his face.

"I thought Halloween was next week." Sara gazed into his eyes as she said this. Nick couldn't help but notice how hot she was. She was the kind of woman who oozed sexuality like a Brazilian tree frog secretes pheramones, which helped him overlook her, at times, abrasive personality and annoying attitude of superiority.

"Laugh and joke all you want, but this is a serious matter. More than you realize." Brass said from behind them. "You're about to get acquainted with the seamy underbelly of Vegas. You thought the mob was bad? Wait till you meet the Ninja Clowns."

"Ninja Clowns! I thought they were just a legend." Sara cried, shivering unintentionally.

Seizing his moment, Nick stepped closer and wrapped the strong arms he had gotten from hours and hours of lifting weights around her, providing her with security and warmth. He took a moment, allowing himself to get lost in her scent. She smelled so good! A mixture of coconut and lime. It was utterly tantalizing, making him, for a split second, think they were alone on a deserted island with nothing but the sand and the sun and the waves and the sporadic tsunamis to keep them company.

Brass shook his head. "I wish that were true, but the evidence is before you. These guys are bad news."

Nick broke away from Sara, saying "Well, someone took him down and from the smell in here, I'd say they tried to fry him extra crispy."

"There are burn marks on his right hand." Dave piped in, pointing to the clown's charred hand.

Brass let out a whistle. "Sounds like they used the Electric Hand Buzzer of Death on him. When these guys turn on each other it gets nasty."

"So you know there was more than one here?" Nick questioned.

"It's common knowledge among the informed that there are fifteen Ninja Clowns, but they prefer to travel in smaller packs. There're never any less than three. At one time. But fifteen all together." Brass told him. "It seems likely that one of his own turned on him, because these guys are tough to take out what with the poisonous pies and all. That, and there's the calling card."

Brass pointed to a half-eaten ham sandwich laying next to the body. "That's how you know a Ninja Clown has struck."

Nick looked down at the sandwich. There was red and white make-up around the bite marks, indicating that the clown had been wearing his make-up when he had eaten part of the sandwich. Picking up the sandwich with his gloved hand, he peered more closely at it.

"Now that is a crime." Nick muttered, looking up at Sara. "Where's the mustard?"

Ignoring his comment, Sara asked, "So does this clown have a name?"

"From the surveillance footage we have, we know that this clown went by the name of Giggles. I can also tell you that he worked primarily with Patches and Mr. Happy Hands. Unfortunately, I can't give you any more info than that. These guys seem to disappear into thin air after they've committed a crime."

"Fortunately for us, I found a lead." Nick said with a voice of triumph. "This isn't just any ham sandwich. It's a ham sandwich on rye with ketchup and sardines. There's only one place in Vegas that makes this sandwich, and that's Hugo's Diner and Bar. Perhaps he can tell us where our clowns are."

Later, Nick, Sara, and Brass arrived at Hugo's. There was no one inside the joint except for one obese man, round as one of the billiard balls on the nearby pool table, wiping down the counter.

"You Hugo?" Brass asked.

"What's it to ya, chump?" Hugo smirked.

"Cut the crap, Jabba. We found one of your signature sandwiches on a dead body tonight. You wanna tell us where we can find the clowns or do I have to get nasty?" Nick threatened, his fingers brushing the hilt of his gun.

"Are you looking for us, Coppers?" a voice called from behind them. Spinning around, the trio was confronted by two menacing Ninja Clowns. Eerily wide smiles were painted across their faces, which were also adorned by geometric shapes.

"Actually, we're not cops." Nick clarified, indicating Sara and himself. "We're scientists. The short guy is the cop."

"My mistake, but I suppose it doesn't really matter." the clown said, amusement painted all over his already painted face.

Nick eyed the patches on the clown's black uniform. "You must be Patches. We saw what you did to your friend, Giggles."

"Giggles was sloppy. He had to be eliminated, and now, we're gonna have to eliminate you too, right Mr. Happy Hands?" Patches replied. Mr. Happy Hands only giggled, wriggling his fingers sadistically.

Suddenly, mayhem erupted. The clowns leapt into action and even Hugo, who was surprisingly spry for a fat man, joined the fray. Without warning, Nick found himself slammed down on a pool table, a pool cue shoved against his throat, choking him.

It was like a scene from one of his worst nightmares as Nick watched his friends in a fight for their lives. He saw Sara pinned down by Mr. Happy Hands, who was using those evil hands to tickle her to death. Nick could barely make out her cries for him through all of her laughter. He turned his head and watched as Brass, crouched behind the counter, ducked a poisonous pie Hugo had thrown at him before taking a shot at him.

No, this was not how it was supposed to end for them. They were not supposed to die at the hands of these Ninja Clowns and a fat sandwich maker. He couldn't let it happen. It was up to him to save them all. After all, saving victims was his speciality and right now, his friends were being victimized so he had to save them because that was something he specialized in.

With a mighty shove, he pushed Patches off of him, ripping the pool cue from the clown's hands. They began circling each other like two jungle cats preparing to battle. Nick was a panther, sleek and cool and deadly, and Patches was a tiger, equally sleek and cool and deadly but more colorful. Time seemed to stand still for Nick as he and Patches were locked in a death match.

Patches struck first, whipping out some bean bags and hurtling them at Nick. However, Nick had lightening fast reflexes born from years and years of competitive sports which his father forced him to participate in despite his constant pleas to spend more time bird-watching, but his father had said no son of his would do a sissy thing like that. Right now, as he swatted away a bean bag, Nick was glad his father had crushed his dreams be a great ornithologist because ornithology wouldn't save him now.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Nick batted one bean bag after another away and then suddenly, Patches had run of ammo and Nick took advantage of the clown's surprise and rushed forward. He smacked Patches across the face and over the head with the pool cue until the clown lost consciousness.

Like a man possessed, Nick turned on Mr. Happy Hands and beat the clown senseless. Accomplishing his goal, he pushed the clown off Sara and helped her to her feet.

"Are you okay?" Nick asked, looking deep into her eyes. "If he hurt you..."

"No, I'm fine. Thanks to you." Sara said, stepping closer to him.

"If he had hurt you, I don't think I could live with myself." Nick said. "I know we just went through a life and death experience, so it could just be the adrenaline talking, but I think I love you, Sara. I mean, I know I'm attracted to you physically, but I think my feelings go beyond that. To a deeper level. Two people as beautiful as us belong together, Sara. Wanna take a chance on a man with a history of victimization which is what enables him to connect with others so well?"

"Oh, Nick!" Sara exclaimed, through herself into his embrace. "A thousand times yes! All those times when you looked into my eyes, I knew that you were looking deep into my soul and weren't scared off by all my emotional baggage like so many other men are!"

"Let's go make out." Nick said, giving her hand a squeeze.

Hesitating, Sara looked in Brass' direction and watched a pie hit the wall just above the detective's head before he fired off another round. "What about Brass?"

"I'm not in the mood to share." Nick smiled. Together, they walked outside feeling as if all was right in the world despite the fact that it was only October and yet it was as cold as a night in mid-winter, which was odd.