PARTNERS IN CRIME...AND PUNISHMENT by Carolina Moon
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Summary—Captain Banks tries a new method of punishment on his best team.
Disclaimer—These characters do not belong to me. They are being used only for fun—not for profit.
Spoilers—a tiny one for ‘Warriors’
Feedback—always appreciated [email protected]I’d like to say a special thank you to Virginia who helped me edit this when my Word program got stubborn and refused to do a spell check and who also gave me the perfect title.
Captain Simon Banks glared, hands on hips, at the two hapless men before him. One stared back defiantly, and the other kept his head down, preferring the pattern of the carpeting to his captain’s angry face.
He shook his head at the study in contrasts between the two figures—one military in his demeanor, stiff in his posture and totally confident; the other nervous and fidgeting, looking like a scared little boy in front of the principal. He said nothing for a few moments, until the older of the two men spoke up. “Are we done here, Captain?”
“Done, Detective Ellison? Oh, no—we’re not done. Not by a long shot. How in the world the two of you think you can just waltz through the Police handbook like it’s your own personal playground, picking and choosing which rules to ignore and which ones to obey, is beyond me. But it ends, right now. I’ve already broken more rules than I’m comfortable with allowing this damn ride along in the first place. How dare you take advantage of my sweet nature and forgiving disposition like this!”
Jim made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort and Blair buried his neck even further into his jacket.
“You find this funny, Detective Ellison?" Simon asked, his tone dangerous.
“No, sir,” the detective answered, his tone making a mockery of the polite words.
“That’s good, because it’s not. What the two of you did was a serious breach of both protocol and professional courtesy, and I’m not apt to find that amusing. We’ve been here before, gentlemen. What I’d like to do now is find some way to assure that we’re never here again.”
Finally, Blair spoke. “We’re sorry, Captain. It won’t happen again,” he said, his voice containing all the sincerity that Jim’s had not.
“I’d like to believe that, Sandburg, but I’m not sure I do. The two of you don’t have a great track record when it comes to keeping promises of this nature.” He frowned at both men. “With Jim, it’s always possible to put a reprimand in his file or put him down for weekend duty, but that only punishes one of you, and I’m well aware that you share the blame equally in this latest mess. But since you are not an official member of the force, I’m at a loss how to discipline you.”
Blair squirmed, and went back to examining the carpet.
Simon sighed. “Besides,” he continued, “as a deterrent to further bad behavior, reprimands leave a great deal to be desired. And Jim already works more unpaid weekends than any other detective I have, with you right there with him.”
Blair looked back up, hopeful now. “Does that mean you’re going to let us off with just a warning?”
If he did, Blair would owe Jim ten bucks, but it was money he’d be happy to lose. The older man was sure they’d be released with a just a stern lecture, and bet his younger partner as much. Blair had not been so convinced of the captain’s easy going and forgiving nature.
Simon rose to his full height and glared down at the young man. “No it does not, Sandburg, no matter what your partner might have thought. What it means is, I have to be a little more creative this time. I want both of you to get out of here, but I want you back at 8:00. We’ll discuss your punishment then. Dismissed, gentlemen.”
Blair grabbed his backpack from the floor and exited without a backward glance, pleased to be away from that imtimidating stare. Jim followed out much more slowly, catching up to his partner at his desk.
“What do you think he’s going to do to us, Jim?”, Blair asked worriedly.
“Assign us more paperwork, most likely, or have us go through lots of boring old files. Simon might be a hard ass about some things, but creative, he ain’t. We’re problably in for a long, tedious evening. Sorry, Chief.”
“S’okay Jim, I was right behind you every step of the way. It’s not all your fault.”
“Yeah, you were behind me except when you were in front of me. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your less-than-careful decision to check out the basement while I was still busy upstairs. When we’re finished dealing with Simon, you and I are going to have a long talk about that, Chief. Count on it.”
Blair scowled, not looking forward to enduring two lectures in one day. No point arguing, though. Jim had decided early on in their partnership that his status as Blair’s Blessed Protector gave him the right to bawl the younger man out whenever he felt his actions were a bit reckless.
Blair glanced at his watch, noting that they had approximately 2 hours until they were due back in the captain’s office.“What do you want to do now?”
“Might as well grab some dinner. I have no idea how long this evening’s little exercise is going to take, but I think we can count on it lasting long past the dinner hour. In fact, as mad as he was, it might be smart to bring back some food for breakfast.”
Blair smiled, but in truth, he didn’t see the humor in the situation. While he knew that Simon had developed an abiding tolerance of him that almost bordered on genuine affection, the older man still made him uneasy. Blair often thought he behaved like a stern father figure, and that was one species Blair had never had much chance to study up close.
“I’ll eat anything but Wonderburger. I don’t think I could take a dose of grease right now. My stomach is still in knots.”Jim shook his head. “I don’t know why you let Simon get to you, Chief. Sure, he’s pissed now, but he knows we work well together. He’ll get over it.”
“Jim, you’re his best detective. He can forgive you a lot. Me? I’m just a lowly observer. One wrong move and I could be out on my ass.”
“That’s not going to happen, so stop worrying. Now let’s go eat. It wouldn’t be wise to keep the captain waiting.”
They found a restaurant nearby with a menu they could both agree on and ate a quick dinner. Jim frowned at how little food actually made it’s way to Blair’s stomach, but he knew the younger man was nervous about their impending meeting with the captain. They returned to the office with time to spare, pleased to see that most of the other officers had left for the day. It was never a comfortable feeling to be reprimanded with an audience looking on. They killed a few minutes filling out their report of the days activities, carefully watching the clock.
At one minute to eight, Jim pushed Blair ahead of him as they knocked on the captain’s door.
The door was pulled open by Simon, whose mood didn’t seem improved at all.
“Well, it’s nice to know it is possible for the two of you to obey a direct order. I was beginning to wonder. Come in.”
Both men took their customary spot in front of Simon’s desk. Jim glanced surreptitiously around, expecting to see piles of files or some other type of busy work. To his surprise, the conference table was empty except for a stack of white lined paper and a handful of sharpened pencils.
Simon stared down at them once again, mimicking his posture from earlier.“I’ve given this latest transgression on your part a great deal of thought. Since it is obvious to anyone that your partnership is good not only for the two of you, but for the department, I have no desire to break it up.”
At these words, Blair released an audible sigh of relief, earning himself a stern look. Simon stared directly at him, directing his next words to the young man. “That does not mean that the type of behavior you displayed today is acceptable. It was immature, headstrong and irresponsible—not words I wish associated with an operation involving my men. So, taking that into consideration, I believe I’ve come up with a punishment that addresses the more childish aspects of your behavior, while it also acknowledges your unique bond.”“What are you gonna do, spank us, Simon?”, Jim asked, his tone just inside the line of blatant disrespect.
The look in the captain’s eyes would have frozen a less confident man on the spot. “No, but don’t think I haven’t thought about it. I’ve often felt that the two of you could greatly benefit from a sound paddling.”
Blair’s eyes flew open at this pronouncement , and even Jim seemed startled by the vehement words.
Simon grinned for a moment, taking obvious pleasure in their discomfiture. Then he sighed, managing to sound disappointed. “No, unfortunately, the department draws the line at corporal punishment. So, since I can’t give you what you really deserve, I’ll have to settle for something else.” He came around from behind his desk, satisfied that he had made at least one half of his best team extremely nervous. He beckoned them over to the conference table with a crooked finger.
“It took me some time to come up with this, but I think it’s just the thing for both of you. The perfect way to teach you both a lesson.”Blair shifted uneasily and even Jim was growing tense. Simon was acting in a decidedly unpredictable way.
Simon indicated the blank sheets of paper stacked on the table. “I decided a little writing assignment would be a good use of your time here tonight. Say, 250 lines of ‘We will always follow proper procedure on a case’.”
Both men stared at him, open-mouthed. Jim searched his captain’s face, hoping to see some sign of jest there, but it remained stern. Before he could question him, Blair found his voice, though it was little more than a squeak. “Is that 250 lines each, Si---Captain, or do we each have to do 125?”Simon smiled in a most unpleasant way. “I’m sorry, Sandburg. I should have explained myself more clearly. The writing assignment is just for Jim—I have something altogether different planned for you.” He took a firm grip on the young anthropologist’s arm and led him to the back of his office. He pointed to the corner. “You, Sandburg, get to stand here and contemplate your sins while Jim writes.”
Blair stared at him, stunned. “Simon….!”
The captain interrupted “Let me finish explaining. You’ll stand here until Jim completes all 250 lines—neatly. If you move out of position, he’ll have to write 10 more each time.”
“Simon! That’s not fair!”, Blair begged, daunted at the prospect of standing still for that length of time. And knowing that Jim would suffer for his fidgety nature made it that much worse.
“Don’t worry, Sandburg. This is an exercise in team work, so Jim will have his own restriction. Any sentence that’s not neatly written will earn *you* 5 more minutes facing the wall. And I mean neatly,” he said, glaring at Jim. “Not that scrawl you use for your reports.We’re talking Palmer-perfect penmanship.”
Jim had said nothing up to this point, sure that the older man would burst out laughing and then tell them what their real punishment was. When no laughter seemed forthcoming, he sputtered, trying to find the words he needed.
“Sir! You can’t be serious! Blair and I might have screwed up on this case, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat us like children.”
“No, your behavior on this case gives me the right to fire your ass for cause,” Simon snapped back, deadly serious now. “As I said before, I’d prefer not to do that. But make no mistake, Jim—I will not tolerate the kind of crap you pulled today. I don’t care how many ‘Cop of the Year’ awards you get! Like it or not, this is the punishment I’ve decided on. You can accept it, or request a transfer. I’m sure there are a lot of other captains who would be understanding about you having a civilian observer as a partner,” he finished sarcastically.
“That’s blackmail, sir!”, Jim exclaimed.
“Call it what you like,” Simon replied, unperturbed. “I prefer to think of it as creative sentencing.”
Blair nervously eyed the two men, suddenly understanding how children must feel when their parents argued, and glad he’d been spared the experience. He knew Simon was serious, and he also knew Jim’s pride would force him into a no-win situation. Hoping to defuse the tension, he spoke in his most placating ‘guide’ tone, his voice loud enough for both men, but his words for his Sentinel alone.
“Jim, c’mon, man. You know Simon’s right—we screwed up big time here. I for one am willing to accept any punishment if it means we can continue our partnership. Remember—I told you, I’m not ready to give up the roller coaster,” he pleaded.
Jim shot him a look, understanding that Blair was giving him a way out. If he agreed to the punishment only to placate his partner, then he could convince himself it wasn’t a complete victory for Simon.
“Are you sure, Chief?”, he asked softly.
Blair nodded.
“All right, Captain,” Jim said, turning back to Simon. “We’ll go along with this little exercise of yours.”
Simon nodded smugly, as though that had been a foregone conclusion. “All right, gentlemen, then let’s get started. You’ve got a long evening ahead of you.” He pointed to the chair at the conference table. “Jim, you sit there. Like I said, I’ll expect perfect sentences.”
Jim took the indicated chair and then scowled at the pencils. “I’d prefer a pen, sir.”
“I’m sure you would, but I think you’ll find that a pencil makes you write much more slowly and carefully. And that’s what this lesson is all about.” He turned from his unhappy detective and, placing a hand on the younger man’s back, steered Blair into the corner, facing the wall.
“Keep your nose right there, Blair. I know it’s too much to expect you not to move at all, but keep your shifting to a minimum. As I said before, any noticeable change in position will result in Jim writing 10 extra sentences.”
Blair turned around, a question forming on his lips, but Simon shook his finger at him.
“Ah-ah-ah, Blair. Nose to the corner and no talking. If you absolutely feel you must say something, raise one finger. If I think it’s worthwhile, I won’t penalize you, but you’d better make it good.”
Blair decided his question could wait. Shooting one last glance at Jim, he turned back to the corner.Jim realized that, positioned as he was, he’d be unable to see his guide while he was writing, and he started to adjust his chair.
“No, Jim,” the captain barked. “you stay right where you are! I want you concentrating on your writing, not on Sandburg.”
Jim glared at the older man, seething with impotent rage, but he left his chair where it was. “What was it you wanted me to write again, captain?”, he asked, his feelings evident in his tone.
Simon gave a mirthless laugh. “See, you can’t keep this thought in your head for five minutes. The sentence I want to see copied is ‘We will always follow proper procedure on a case.’ And I want the sentences printed. Easier on my eyes that way, and I *will* be checking them carefully.”
Jim grumbled, but began writing. The sooner he finished, the sooner he and Blair could put this whole humiliating episode behind them. He wrote the first sentence carefully, and then looked back over it with a critical eye. It was neat, but he’d never finish if he took so long to write each one. He wrote the second one more quickly, pleased that it also seemed acceptable. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad—he’d get them all done and they’d be on their way home to a cold beer and the Jags game in no time. His confidence lasted until half way down the first page. After fewer than 15 sentences, his hand was beginning to cramp, and he was afraid the last few were becoming perilously close to being deemed too sloppy to count. He carefully erased the last two words of the most recent sentence, pausing a moment to glare at his captain.
The older man was sitting at his desk, going over some paperwork, but he must have felt Jim’s eyes cutting into him, because he looked up and gave his detective a grim smile.
“Enjoying yourself, Jim?” he asked. “Looks like you’re having about as much fun as I did when I was called into the Chief’s office this afternoon to explain your little ‘error in judgment’.”
Jim felt a flash of guilt at Simon’s words. It was true, the older man *did* often have to cover for them—and he had always done an admirable job. He bent back over his paper, determined to bear the rest of his punishment without complaint. He couldn’t help wondering how his energetic partner was doing. Once, on a stakeout, he had bet Blair 20 bucks that he couldn’t keep entirely still for 5 minutes. Jim had won the bet before 2 minutes had passed. As though responding to his thoughts, he heard the captain speak.
“I saw that, Sandburg. Hands by your side. Jim, that’s an extra ten for you.”
Jim sighed, not surprised when a moment later he heard Blair whisper ‘Sorry’ for his ears alone. Poor Blair—he had to give the captain credit, this punishment was especially devious. As part of his training as a Ranger, Jim had been taught tricks for holding himself perfectly immobile for hours at a time. Standing still in a corner would have been no challenge for him at all. And with all Blair’s note taking experience, writing quickly and neatly came as naturally to him as flirting.
No doubt about it, Simon had truly found each man’s Achille’s heel. And making them responsible for any increase in the other’s punishment was just the icing on the cake.Time ticked slowly by. Jim finished filling the fourth sheet completely and moved to the fifth, sparing himself a glance at the clock on Simon’s desk. It had taken him close to 45 minutes to write just over 100 sentences, but his hand was cramping so badly he was afraid the next hundred would go much slower. He was also afraid his guide would go slightly nuts having to stay still that long. He could hear the younger man shifting ever so slightly, but apparently it wasn’t enough to attract Simon’s attention yet. He continued to write, peripherally aware that Blair’s movements were becoming more pronounced.
Blair, for his part, was staring miserably into the corner. He’d had spent the first few minutes analyzing the brushstrokes of the paint, noting that the painter had used vertical strokes instead of horizontal, and had skimped on the amount of paint on his brush when he had reached the top of the wall. For the next few, he tried to remember all the ancient tribes of South America, in chronological order. When he tired of that, he then tried to guesstimate how long it would take Jim to write that sentence 250 times. Figuring 20 seconds per sentence, at least while he was fresh… math in his head was never his strong suit, so he forgot and lifted his hands so he could use his fingers for help. Of course, Simon had chosen that moment to look up, and he heard Jim’s total increased by ten.
He sighed, even more miserable, hoping that Jim had heard his near silent apology. Never, never could he remember such a tortuous punishment. As a child, the most Naomi had ever done to curb his more wild actions was confine him to his room, and she was such a softy that she had rarely made the confinement last for more than a few minutes.
As he stood, wondering how Jim’s hand was holding out, he became aware of another pressing need. He hadn’t eaten much at dinner, but he had downed three iced teas, and they were making their presence known to his bladder. He shifted slightly, trying to keep his movements small enough to stay under Simon’s radar. He heard Jim place another page to the side and breathed a silent prayer of relief. By his count, that made four, so Jim should be finished at least a hundred sentences.
Now, if he could just ignore the urge to pee—Jim always teased that he was as squirmy as a five year old when he needed a bathroom and that was simply not going to be okay in this situation. He waited a few minutes longer, wondering if he’d have to summon the captain’s attention by raising his finger, when he heard the older man speak. At first he was sure Simon had caught him fidgeting again and was tacking on more sentences. He almost wept in relief when instead he heard the captain telling them to take a five minute break.He bolted from the corner, shooting both men a sheepish look as he flew from the room in the direction of the men’s restroom.
Jim smiled as he watched him go. He knew Blair had been uncomfortable—his heart rate and breathing had increased steadily over the past several minutes. He stretched back in his chair, massaging his aching hand, before he stood to go off in search of his partner.
Simon’s voice stopped him at the door. “Jim, I….,” his voice trailed off, suddenly unsure of what he wanted to say.Jim turned to look at him, his face impassive. “Yes, captain?”
“I’ll look over the sentences you’ve completed so far, and let you know if any of them have earned Sandburg more corner time,” Simon finished stiffly, annoyed at himself for letting the detective make *him* feel guilty.
“Fine, Sir,” Jim replied keeping his voice cold.
Jim caught up to his guide just as he was coming out of the restroom, noting that he looked much calmer. Blair’s eyes lit up when he saw his partner.
“Sorry for the hasty retreat. If I didn’t get out of that corner and into the bathroom, Simon really would have been pissed—literally!”, he chuckled.
Jim just shook his head, both at the miserable pun and his young partner’s unquenchable good humor. “How are you holding up, Chief?
“I’m doing ok, but how about you? Your hand must be killing you—have you turned the pain dials down yet?”“I’m not at that point yet, but I will if I think I need to. I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to get these damn things written.”
Blair waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just sorry that I earned you those extra lines. Staying still isn’t something I’ve had a lot of practice with, you know?”
“Don’t be too quick to apologize, Chief. The captain is going over my sentences now. I may have bought you some extra time in the corner with my scrawl. By the last few, I’m afraid I was getting pretty ragged.”
“Well, at least we’re in this together. Boy, I never thought Simon had it in him to come up with something like this,” Blair said with a rueful shake of his curly head.“You and me both, buddy. I haven’t had to write lines since I was in grade school.”
“Ooh, the great Jim Ellison, getting in trouble? Those are stories I’d like to hear!”
“I’ll have you know I was the spitball king of my class, Sandburg,” Jim exclaimed imperiously. Then he sighed and glanced at his watch. “Better be getting back, Chief. Our five minute break is almost up.”
They returned to the captain’s office, feeling at least marginally better after the brief interlude.
Simon looked up when they came in and held up the papers Jim had completed. “Not bad, detective. Only two weren’t acceptable. That’s an extra ten minutes for you, Sandburg.” Then he tore the sheets in two and dropped them in the trash.
Both men sighed and then resumed their previous positions. For the next hour, the only sounds in the room were the scratch of pencil on paper and Blair’s occasional whisper-soft sighs. He managed to move only once more, earning Jim another ten sentences.
Finally, Blair heard Jim throw down his pencil and push back in his chair. “Done, captain. Check these over and see if I earned Blair any more time. Then I’ll start my extra ones. He shouldn’t have to be punished twice for my poor penmanship.”
“All right, Jim, let me see what you’ve got.” This time, only one sentence was deemed unacceptable, so Jim got busy on his last twenty sentences while Blair endured another 15 minutes. Jim finished just ahead of the fifteen minute mark, his hand cramping so badly the last few were torture. Overall, the captain’s punishment had taken almost 2 ½ hours, and both men were exhausted.
“Time’s up, Sandburg,” Simon said, and once again Blair bounded out of the corner like a kid on the last day of school.
He almost shook with supressed energy. “Oh, man, two hours without talking! Simon, you will never know what that did to me. I mean, I’m never that quiet unless I’m asleep, and Jim even swears I talk in my sleep sometimes, just ‘cause there aren’t enough hours in the day to say everything I want to. I tell him to tune his hearing out at night, but he won’t ‘cause he’s always afraid I’m gonna, I don’t know, fall out of bed or something, and he won’t be able to hear me. I’d probably sleep through it anyway; you know I sleep like the dead, but try telling that to Mr. Blessed Protector.”
Blair finally paused for a breath and took in the bemused expressions on his companions’ faces.
“What? What’s so funny?”, he asked, glaring at the two men.
Jim just threw an affectionate arm around the younger man. “C’mon, Chief. Let’s go home, and I’ll soak my hand in some cold water while you babble to your heart’s content.”“I do not babble!”, Blair replied indignantly, but he let Jim pull him toward the door.
“Just a minute, gentlemen!”, came Simon’s commanding voice.
Both men stopped in their tracks, afraid that Simon might have thought of a new facet to their punishment.
“Yes, sir?”, they inquired in unison, their voices betraying their nervousness.
Simon stared at them sternly. “I just wanted you to know that I hope you learned something from this evening’s lesson. I don’t *ever* want to be here again, is that clear?”
“Crystal, sir,” Jim shot back quickly, and Blair nodded in enthusiastic agreement.
“Good,” Simon replied, trying to keep his glare, but failing miserably.
“Now, how about I buy the two of you a beer? I’d say you’ve earned it.”
Both men seemed surprised at the gesture. Jim looked over at his partner. “What do you say, Chief? Can you stand sitting in a bar for a while?”“If Simon’s buying, I’ll manage. Hey, this is kind of like one of the customs of the Pundi tribe in South Africa. After one of their warriors has been disciplined by the chieftain, the village women prepare a feast, sort of as a welcome back to the tribe, as a sign that all is forgiven. It’s really an ancient custom, and you can find similar examples in lots of other cultures…..” Blair continued to talk as he let Jim steer him out of Simon’s office, not noticing when the older men paused so that Simon could lock his office.
Jim and Simon again exchanged smiles over the young anthropologist’s head as he continued his lecture.
“Is he going to be like this for the rest of the night?”, Simon asked quietly, though Sandburg was too caught up in his monologue to notice.
“You never know, captain. Putting a harness on that much energy for two hours might have a serious rebound effect. I might have to tie him to the back bumper of the truck and let him run to the bar just to burn up his excess energy.”
Simon just laughed, and Blair finally paused in his lecture long enough to notice that the other men had fallen behind.
“C’mon guys! I’ve hung around this office long enough tonight! Let’s go get that beer!”
“Sandburg, for once we’re in total agreement,” Simon said, and he threw an arm around each of his men and led them to the elevators.
THE END