DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.
Author's Note: New to 21 Jump Street, just got Season 1 for my birthday. This story is set prior to the episode "Gotta Finish the Riff." It was originally planned as a one-shot, but I wrote so much I had to break it into chapters. Please read and review!
Officer Tom Hanson pulled his blue Mustang into a parking space close to the Jump Street chapel. He checked his watch: 6:30. That gave him about an hour to enjoy a cup of coffee and catch up on some paperwork. He looked up and noticed the lights in the loft were already on. He headed upstairs, figuring it had to be Judy or Captain Jenko. What he saw when he got to the loft was very unexpected: chronically late Doug Penhall. He was lying on the wooden floor, his reddened face dripping sweat as he did sit-ups.
"12...13...ugh...14...15," he grunted.
"Doug?" Tom said quizzically.
"16. What do you want, Hanson?" Doug asked, glaring at him.
He paused in his sit-ups, resting his elbows on his knees. He gritted his teeth against the stinging coming from his stomach muscles.
"Nothing," Tom shrugged. "It's just...different. You're here early and-"
"And what?" Doug's tone remained sharp. "I'm not stuffing my face?"
"Whoa, take it easy," said Tom, crossing the room and turning on the coffee pot. "I wasn't gonna say that at all. What's the matter with you?"
Doug sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. "Got a letter about a new department policy. They're makin' everyone redo their final academy physical test once a year."
"I didn't get a letter like that."
"Of course you didn't, fresh meat. You're, what, six months outta the academy?"
Tom didn't answer that. He hadn't been at Jump Street long, but he knew enough that silence was sometimes the best option when Doug was in one of his moods. The stocky officer was now toying with the silver Saint Michael medal he always wore.
"I'm gonna get stuck on desk duty for sure," he muttered.
"Don't say that. How long until you test anyway?"
"Oh." said Tom. It was Tuesday.
The two men turned their heads toward the sound of high heels clipping up the stairs, signaling the arrival of their lone female coworker. Tom sat at his desk and started filling out a report over the latest case he'd closed. Doug resumed his exercises, though drastically altered the count.
"45!" he said loudly. "46...ugh...47...48...49...ah...50." He triumphantly flopped onto his back.
"Good morning," Judy called cheerfully.
"Hey," Doug greeted from the floor, deciding this was more than enough exercise for the day.
She crossed into his line of sight, balancing a large pink box.
"Whatcha got there? More clothes?" asked Doug.
She shook her head. "Nah. I brought a little somethin' for everybody."
She set the box down on her desk and opened the lid.
"Hey! Doughnuts!" Tom said with a grin. He got up from his desk, seized a glazed from the box, and bit into it. "Mmmm, Judy, you shouldn't have. Thanks."
Doug groaned as he stood up. "Yeah, you really shouldn't have. I don't need that kinda temptation."
"Did you give up sugar for Lent or something?" Judy asked, delicately nibbling on a doughnut with strawberry frosting and sprinkles.
"Penhall has to retake his physical on Friday," Tom explained.
Judy was puzzled. "Retake it? Why?"
"New department policy," Doug answered grumpily.
At that moment, Captain Jenko made his usual grand entrance by sliding down the yellow and red striped fire pole.
"Mornin', my groovy cats and foxy chick," he said. "Ioki's out having a root canal done, so it's just you three today. Got a new case for ya, Doug. You should fit right in given what The Man's gonna put you through on Friday. Over at Southern High, four out of six seniors on the baseball team tested positive for steroids."
"They get expelled?" asked Tom.
"No, just suspended for a week and kicked off the team. They wouldn't flip on who's sellin' the dope. Principal suspects there may be more kids usin' that junk than he knows about. Doug, you're goin' in as a transfer second-string shortstop who's lookin' to get better in a big way with no waiting."
Doug nodded. He'd only been halfway listening to Jenko; he was preoccupied with attempting to ignore the rumbling in his stomach. He'd been eating sparingly since finding out his test date, hoping that he'd be better off if he dropped a couple pounds first. Jenko retrieved the doughnut box from Judy's desk and held it toward Doug.
"No, thanks, Jenko. Tryin' to keep this gut in check so I can pass the physical."
"Come on, brother. You know I don't like sendin' you kids to the schoolhouse without some kinda chow."
Doug sighed and put his hand into the box. He pulled out a chocolate doughnut that, like Judy's, was covered in sprinkles. He bit into it.
"Hey, Jenko, lemme have another one," said Tom.
Chewing slowly, Doug thought resentfully about how lucky the kid was to avoid retaking his physical, at least for now. Jenko dropped a file on his desk, which contained all the necessary background on his new undercover identity. He skimmed over it as he continued with his breakfast. Jenko checked the clock.
"All right, it's about that time," he said. "I'll catch you kids on the flip side."
Tom and Judy grabbed their backpacks. Doug hastily crammed the rest of the doughnut into his mouth, licked the chocolate icing off his fingers before picking up his file, then grabbed his own bag.