A more lighthearted drabble thing-a-ma-bob. Pre-series.

Disclaimer: The Shield of a product of Shawn Ryan's mind. Yea.

Vic opened the door to the clubhouse and he glanced around, eyes falling on Lem and Ronnie sitting at the table, playing cards. Lem had several tiny stacks of cards laid out in front of him with three cards in his hand. Ronnie only had five tiny stacks and six cards in his hand. He had a sour expression on his face while Lem had a smug one on his. Both looked up when he came into the room.

"Hey, boss," Lem greeted, nodding to him.

Vic nodded in response. Ronnie waved absently, his attention brought back to the cards in his hand. His scowl deepened. The leader of the Strike Team frowned at the two for a moment before he grimaced and asked, "Do I even wanna know what you're playing?"

A grin tugged at Lem's lips while Ronnie rolled his eyes. "Go Fish," they answered in unison.

Biting back a snort of laughter, Vic pulled up a chair beside Lem. "Go Fish?" He repeated.

Lem shrugged his shoulders. "We played Texas Hold 'Em, like, fifty times. That and Go Fish are the only games Ronnie here knows."

"You're kidding, right?" Vic demanded of him before turning to Ronnie for either denial or confirmation.

Ronnie squirmed uncomfortably under Vic's scrutiny before he muttered, "I never saw the need to learn anything else."

Lem suddenly reached over the table, snapping his fingers in Ronnie's face. "Hey, back to the game. It's your turn."

"Ah, yea. Got any sixes?" Ronnie asked.

"Go Fish," Lem told him. The brunette rolled his eyes again and drew a card from the thin pile in the middle of the table between them. "Got any twos?"

"Jesus," Ronnie swore and handed over the card he had just drawn. Lem smirked and withdrew a card from his hand and placed the two cards face down on the table with the others.

Vic scoffed in disbelief. "Why aren't you two out looking for people to arrest?"

Lem shrugged. "No one's out."


Ronnie nodded. "Seriously," he confirmed.

"The dealers, the buyers, the gang bangers, the johns, the prostitutes, even your everyday nut jobs aren't out. Farmington's, like, a ghost town," Lem explained. "It's kinda weird. Ronnie and I were out for a couple hours driving around. Didn't see a soul doin' anything bad. Either they're playin' it safe and aren't out, or they're being real careful about what they're doin' in public."

Vic cocked a brow. "Really?" Both younger men nodded. He leaned back in his chair. "Huh."

"Calm before the storm, boss?" Lem questioned, turning his head towards Vic.

Vic shrugged. "Christ, I hope not. The storm from this calm is gonna make a hurricane look like a pleasant breeze."

"Anyway – Ronnie, got any fours?"

"Go Fish. Got any nines?" Ronnie returned. Lem nodded and handed over a card, leaving himself with only one left. He placed Lem's card and his own face down in front of him. "Any tens?"

Lem shook his head. "Nah, man. Go Fish – any aces?"

"Damn it!" Ronnie flicked the card he had just drawn across the table, landing face up on a pair of face down cards – an ace of spades.

"Ha ha!" Lem turned the card left in his hand – an ace of hearts – towards Ronnie and slammed it down onto the table. "I win!"

Vic snorted with laughter. "You're acting like a six year old, Lem," he informed the other detective.

"So what, I'm bored." Lem stood, stretching his limbs as he gathered the cards back up into a pile. He started to shuffle them. "We need to teach Ronnie how to play some good games. No more kiddie crap."

"We will when Shane and Terry get back," Vic said.

As if on cue, the door to the clubhouse opened and a balding man and another blond stepped in. Shane and Terry looked at them curiously. Lem laughed. "Speak of the devil. Hey, Shane. Hey, Terry," he greeted.

Terry smiled in greeting to the other blond and turned to Vic. "Hey, we have a drive-by downtown. Eight casualties, two civilians. Gang related."

"There's that storm we were looking for," Vic muttered, standing. "No rest for the wicked, huh? Let's go, boys."

Lem nodded and replaced the cards back into their box and tossed it onto the tabletop. Ronnie stood and followed the others out of the clubhouse. "We'll teach you how to play a grown-ups game when we get back," Vic told him as they stepped out of the Barn and into the parking lot.

"Yea, yea, whatever. I'm never gonna live this down, am I?" Ronnie asked. When Vic smirked, he groaned softly. "At least tease Lem, too! He indulged me!"

"No way, man," Lem said, glancing over his shoulder as he tugged on his jean jacket. "That's all on you, Ronnie." Ronnie huffed in annoyance as they piled into Vic's car.

Vic started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. "Who's taking credit for this and why would they do it?" He asked Shane and Terry.

"Well, the One-Niners were the ones hit, so..."

I dunno, I had a hard time ending this. I had another paragraph written out but I couldn't end it!! I ended up deleting it and letting it end on an open sentence. (Did you know that this show is surprisingly hard to get into character with?)