Apparently, two detectives, one a small woman and the other blind, did not present as particularly intimidating authority figures to small cluster of hoodlums. They decided to jump the police officers instead of talking.

Since all Detectives Jim Dunbar and Karen Bettancourt wanted was some information, this was a really bad decision. The brief scuffle ended with all four teenagers face down on the concrete, handcuffed, while the detectives were merely ruffled.

Later, Karen found Jim in the locker room, attempting to clean and bandage a painful looking gash just below his left elbow.

"Ouch," she commented, noting the grim resolve with which he went about his task. He probably felt he had to take care of the little bumps and bruises himself now that Christie had left for L.A.. "What happened?"

"Caught it on the curb during the ruckus," he said. "Nothing major…what're you doing?"

She'd taken the antiseptic from his hand and was gently dabbing at the injury. "Takin' care of this," she said, not brooking any argument from him. "Gimme the big Band-Aid."

Holding up the Band-Aid, he teased, "Thanks, Mom. Gonna kiss it better?"

"Zip it," she replied, but there was affection in her tone and she felt bad when he winced as she smoothed the bandage over his injury. On a whim, she pressed a quick peck to his elbow and grand when he burst a laughing.

"Feels better already," he said and smiled in her general direction.

Slapping him on the shoulder, she replied, "Next time, just ask, okay."


It was a partner thing.