A/N: Start a story with "The hallway was silent..." and continue from there.
The hallway was silent as Mike Logan crept along the wall, his back cold as he pressed himself flat against it. Holding his weapon at his knee, he chanced a glance over his shoulder before continuing forward. His free hand lingered behind, trailing his fingers across the bumpy paint with each tentative step. A creak of the floorboards startled Mike, causing him to clutch the gun in both hands and look sharply to his right.
"Yo, Barek? Ya there?" he called out, his deep voice echoing in the abandoned house. Palming his weapon with clammy hands, his green eyes darted back and forth. Unable to penetrate the darkness, he felt severely uncomfortable. "Uh, Barek?"
Another creak resounded, this time to the left. Mike whirled around, his weapon raised, finger gingerly touching the trigger. Sweat gathered at his hairline, his neck surely wet to the touch as well. Furrowing his brow, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. "Barek," he called sharply, anger and fear intertwining in his stomach.
Suddenly, a large figure appeared before him, causing Logan to stumble backwards and fall onto his bottom. Recovering quickly, he pulled himself up onto his feet and pointed his gun at the enormous chest before him. "Police! Hands up!" he demanded, attempting to steady his breath after his fall. "Up!"
The figure did as he was told casually, as though it felt no fear or resentment at being ordered. Unable to see the man's face, Logan took a carefully step to away from the wall. The poor lighting, the source being the half-hidden moon peering in from a far window, did nothing to reveal the intruder's face. Aggravated, and still shaky, Logan bellowed, "Barek! Get your ass over here, now!"
With no response from his missing partner, Logan felt a chill run down his spine. "Where the hell is she?" he questioned, his voice dropping an octave. He took a threatening step forward, once more grabbing his gun with two hands. Training it on the head of the intruder, which was a few inches above his own, he repeated his question forcefully. "Where the hell is she!"
The man shrugged, his hands dangling above his hand like an outrageous imitation of an primate. The head was cocked to the side, the body lax, and Logan felt as though something was going to happen. Something that didn't bode well for him at all. Fumbling for his cell in one of his trouser pockets, his face attempted to contort itself into one of placidity.
A hand on his shoulder caused him to whirl around quickly, dropping his cell phone to the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Mike's finger slipped, and he pulled the trigger despite the fact he had no idea of knowing whether or not Carolyn was the owner of the hand. His mind was blank, his strong jaw slack, when nothing happened with his weapon.
"Aw, f-" the expletive went unheard as he cut himself short and opted for a loud, startled shout of fear when two large arms encircled his stomach. Mike knew the figure before him was a woman, but if it was Carolyn, she made no indication. However, Mike no longer cared who the woman was, as he attempted to free himself from the strong grasp of his attacker. Finding himself off the floor, albeit not by much, he panicked.
Nearing the horribly painted wall before him, Mike used all of his energy to plant his feet against it, and push off hard. The large man holding him stumbled backwards and onto his back with a deep grunt of pain, his hold on Logan's stomach releasing when they both sprawled onto the worn carpet. Brought back to reality by the soft gasp emitted by the female, Logan rolled over onto his side and away from the body on the floor.
Pushing himself onto all fours, he glanced at the two figures, recognizing their shapes from his new vantage point. With an angry growl, he jerked himself onto his feet and squared his jaw. "Goren!? Eames!?"
The woman he correctly guessed as Eames was currently kneeling beside her groaning partner's side, who had managed to prop himself onto his elbows. She stood up quickly and poked hard into Logan's chest, ignoring his expression of unmasked shock and fury. "You idiot!" she shouted, jabbing him again, "You could have seriously hurt him!"
Mike spluttered, his attempts at protesting batted away from the furious woman. "Damn it, Mike! What were you thinking?"
"Thinking!?" he roared, shocked beyond belief. Jabbing an accusing finger at Bobby, he shouted, "He didn't identify himself! You," he was in her face now, or as much as he could be as he towered high above her, "Didn't identify yourself!"
She huffed and crossed her arms across her chest, "It was a joke, ya idiot."
"Wha-?" his jaw slackened once more, his eyebrows high above his widened eyes. "A friggin' joke?!"
By this time, Bobby was slowly pushing himself up off the floor, a grimace evident on his face from where Mike stood. He slowly stepped forward, one hand out to place on his angered partner's shoulder, the other on his aching back. "Eames," he said softly, but she ignored it until his gentle touch caused her to relax.
"You scare me shitless, nearly have me shoot ya dead, and you're telling me if was all for a friggin' joke!?" Logan was waving a hand in the air now, his body emanating heat from all of his anger. His heart pounded against his chest, both from the adrenaline of being frightened and his rage at it all having being a joke at his expense.
The lights suddenly went on, causing the trio to wince. Logan took a step back, a hand raised to his sore eyes. Upon blinking them open slowly, he saw a very amused Carolyn Barek sauntering down their way. Following her was a Captain Deakins, attempting to hide a smirk behind a failing stern expression. Ignoring the floor of relief that his partner was in fact okay, Logan stepped around the petite woman before him and growled, "What the hell is going on?"
"Happy Halloween, Logan," Carolyn shrugged, an impish smile gracing her face as she casually put her hands into her snug pockets.
Speechless, Logan looked around her to his Captain, who was trying to burn a hole into the carpet with his downcast eyes. "Cap'n...you're kidding..." he gaped, his body slouching with realization.
Deakins shrugged, rather than answer, afraid he was going to break down laughing from the terrified expressions he saw on the monitor set-up next door. Exasperated, Logan closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his hooked nose. "A Halloween prank..this was all a prank..."
Mike was instantly aware that the duo behind him were attempting to stifle their laughter, emitting pathetic snorts and choking sounds. Sighing heavily, he threw his hands up in the air and hung his head. "Ya got me..." he moaned, and winced when Eames let out a loud giggle. He looked up sharply and eyed his weapon, looking back at Carolyn pointedly. Waving the gun in front of her extremely smug face, he claimed, "Nice trick...with the gun. The ol' switch-a-roo." He looked down at the realistic gun in his hand, "Very real looking."
"We couldn't take the, ah, bullets, out...you'd have noticed the, uh, change in weight." Goren pointed out from behind Logan's hulking figure, both hands now kneading his sore muscles in his back.
"Clever," Mike muttered before shaking his head. "So...I'm assuming there really isn't a lead on our case, huh?" Peering up at the faces before him, he rolled his eyes.
Shaking his head, the Captain chuckled and motioned for the detectives to follow him. "All right you guys, play time is over. Let's head over to Peter J's, first round on me."
The others began following him, leaving Logan a few paces behind with a perplexed expression. "You're just gonna...yep. Act like nothing happened. Right..." he mumbled and kicked at the carpet, nearly tumbling over a lump as he headed out himself. Glancing up, making sure no one saw it, he straightened himself out and strode ahead.