A/N: I don't own 21 Jump Street…despite my hopes, dreams, and wishes

A/N: I don't own 21 Jump Street…despite my hopes, dreams, and wishes.

"Tommy? Tommy? Where are you?"

Tom Hanson rolled his eyes as he pulled the comforter over his head in hopes of losing himself beneath the cotton-polyester blend. Unfortunately, he was not quite no lucky. His bedroom door opened and a not so patient Doug Penhall came barging in.

"Tom! Come on, get up!" Doug urged, ripping the comforter off, revealing Tom in only his boxers. Tom flinched as the air hit his revealed skin. Why couldn't Doug just leave? Didn't he know he needed his sleep?

"What do you want, Doug?" Tom demanded.

"Just a favor."

Tom squeezed his eyes shut. Of all the things to want! Tom glanced over at the clock. It was nine in the morning! Nine in the freaking morning on his day off from work and here was Doug asking for favors. If he thought he was going to get some action this early, he was dead wrong.

"Doug, I'm tired."

"You aren't tired. You're lazy. There's a difference."

"Doug, please," Tom begged, "I just want to sleep."

"But I need a favor," Doug's voice changed suddenly to a softer tone as he traced his finger along Tom's neck, inducing a shiver.

"Doug," Tom batted his hand away, "Not now! I'm tired and I just want to sleep. What could you possibly want this early and if you say sex you're a dead man!"

"I just need a tiny favor."

"So you've said. I just need my comforter back and another two hours of sleep!"

"Grouchy in the mornings are we?" Doug asked, cocking a jovial eyebrow.

"Shut up!" Hanson growled, "Find some other means of entertainment."

"I don't want other means of entertainment!" Doug whined, "I want you."

"Doug," Tom winced, "Any other time…"

"Look, I don't want what you think, Tommy."

"You don't?" Tom shot him a skeptical glance. If not sex, what did Doug want? Tom began to grow worried. He wasn't in the mood for any of Doug's usual nonsense.

"Nope. I just want a favor."

"Doug, you keep telling me that but in order for me to agree to this so called favor, you must tell me what this so called favor is!" Tom didn't mean to snap, he just did. Upon seeing Doug's hurt expression, Tom softened, "Doug, just tell me what you want."

"Okay…" Doug sighed as he ran a hand through his messy brown hair, "You know Dianna?"

"Your sister?"


"Yeah. So?"

"So she has this kid…a baby actually and…"


"Well, come see for yourself," Doug urged as he grabbed Tom by the hand and drug him out of bed.

"This had better be important Doug, or I can assure you aren't getting anything from me, no favors, no nothing for quite a long time."

"It is important. Just come see!"

Doug dragged Tom out of his room and to his living room. Tom's eyes widened upon seeing a car seat, complete with baby, perched upon the coffee table.


"Yeah Tom?"

"What the hell is that?"

"That's a baby, Tommy. You know the things you get when a girl and a guy…"

"I know what a baby is Doug," Tom was shouting now, "I want to know WHAT IT'S DOING IN MY HOUSE!"

"It's sleeping. Well, until you wake it up with your ever-so-rude screaming."

"Doug, now isn't the time! What is a freakin' baby doing in my living room?"

"You know my sister?"

"Doug, we've been through this. Now tell me, WHY IS THERE A BABY IN MY LIVING ROOM?"

"Well…" Doug ran another hand through his hair, "You see…Dianna went out of town to visit some friends and she needed a baby sitter and…"


"And I said I would."

"Well good for you," Tom nodded civilly, "Now that you've shared this tid bit with me, you can pack up the baby and go home."

"Well…that's the thing, Tommy. My apartment is being renovated. I need a place to chill."

"This is not happening," Tom shook his head, "This is not happening. This is not happening!"

"I've asked Harry and Booker and Judy and they all said no."

"And I'm your last option, huh?"

"Yeah," Doug shrugged, "But if you don't want me to stay here with the baby then I'll just pack everything up and find some place else. Maybe Blowfish will let me stay with him…"

"You aren't staying with Blowfish," Tom sighed, "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long will you and the kid have to chill here?"

"Just the weekend."

"Today, tomorrow, and Sunday. Then you'll be gone?"

"Yeah," Doug nodded happily, "You won't even notice we're here!"

Just at that particular moment, the baby chose to wake up and start wailing like a banshee. Tom stretched his neck over to the car seat and bit his lower lip.

"You were saying, Doug?"

"Tom, she's just a little upset right now. You were screaming like a maniac! You scared her!"

"I did no such thing! This is my apartment, Doug. I can scream when I want to!"

"You're scaring her again!" Doug shouted over the baby's screams.

"Doug, I'm not good with babies – hell, I don't even like the messy buggers – but don't you think if she's crying you should…I don't know…hold her or something?"

"Right!" Doug nodded as if Tom had just had a huge scientific break through, "Come here Gracie! Aww…no need to cry. Uncle Tommy's just a big meanie head. He's totally harmless."


"See, he's just a big ol' meaning butt!"


"Shut up, Tom!" Doug shot Tom a death glare, "You don't want her to start screaming again, do you?"

Tom sighed and collapsed onto the leather couch. He suddenly had a hauting preminission that Doug had been dead wrong in saying that he wouldn't notice them.


"Yeah Doug?" Tom asked, rolling his eyes impatiently.

"Do you have any towels?"


"Gracie spit up."

A/N: Okay, so what do you think so far?