Moonlight Serenade Gone Wrong

who: Danny and Paul
where: some poor people's front yard / the station house
when: late night

Paul had been away from home for a couple of days, but it seemed like he should remember where home was, even drunk and high. He'd tried his key in the door, but it didn't work. He thought maybe it was the wrong key, but he only had two and neither of them would fit. The door was the right color, and it said 802 on it. There was a nice car in the driveway that he'd never seen before, and he wondered who was visiting. "HEEEEEEY! Lemme in!" He knocked a few times, then started to kick the door. After a while, he decided Tammy must be mad at him, and began to sing some of those sappy love songs he used to sing when she wouldn't go out with him.

Danny was still a little frustrated and not enough drunk as he trudged down the street. He'd hit about four places looking for Cheyenne with no luck and not it was starting to get pretty late. Why he'd gone and left his car at the station he'd never know, but then again, he usually was far drunker at this time of night. He was taking a shortcut through a residential area when he heard what he supposed was supposed to be singing. Spotting the dumbass standing on someone stoop he realized the idiot was trying to get into the house. Sure he was off duty, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to stand around and let the moron harass his neighbors.

As Danny crossed the street headed towards the unfortunate soul, who judging by his choice in tune had been kicked out of his house, he spotted the squad car coming down the road. "Even better," Danny said, flagging the car down, hoping it was someone he knew. The car slowed to a stop and it was a kid he knew. The kid was green, hence why he had the middle of the night shift, but a good kid. "Your drunk and disorderly is a few houses up. I'll help you drag him in." The kid nodded and Danny trudged through the yards as the squad car pulled into the appropriate driveway. "You lost buddy?" Danny called out when he got within range.

Paul looked up from his very loud and slightly off key rendition of the melody to Moonlight Serenade and gave Danny a hangdog look. "Tammy's pissed at me, I think. My key won't work." He turned back to look at the house and yelled "Tammy! You're bothering the neighbors with my singing! Lemme in!" He thought very hard for about three seconds and added "M'sorry!... for... something..." He was pretty sure he'd done something, but just couldn't recall offhand what that might be. It must have been bad, though.

Looking back at the window on the front of the house Danny spotted the actual residents of the house who looked both terrified and disgusted. The dumbfuck wasn't even at the right place. Classic. "Alright buddy," Danny said, clearing the last few steps between himself and Paul, he reached out, catching Paul by the collar.

At first Paul didn't notice, which meant he wasn't prepared for a tug and he wasn't all that steady to begin with. He fell back against Danny. "Whoa! Whaa..." And then he grinned up at him. "Thanks man. I thought I was gonna fall or somethin" He started trying to figure out where his feet where supposed to go and which direction to push to get upright. "Jus... gimme a second... um... a hand... I...oops"

"Right," Danny answered, catching the guy and hauling him down by the arm. "How about we take a ride buddy eh?" The young cop was out of his squad car and coming around to help Danny half-carry Paul down the walk to the driveway.

"A ride? Where we goin? Do I need to bring my own bottle?" He tried to turn back toward the house. "Tammy! Hey Tammy! Bring me the gin! This guy's gonna let me in his house!" He didn't struggle too hard agaisnt the efforts of EC's finest. He figured if they wanted to go before Tammy brought the gin out, well, that would mean he could share their stuff and there would be gin when she decided to let him back in the house. Then he got a look at the younger officer, and turned to whisper, not so quietly to Danny. "Hey... I think that guy's a cop!" Yeah... Paulie could spot a cop a mile away.

"I think we're good," Danny said giving Paul a tug to get him facing in the right direction again. To prove his point he produced his own flask from his jacket pocket and flashing a sly smile." When Paul whispered at Danny, the guy's breath was easily 100 proof. Jesus, this fuck was drunk. "Funny thing about that, so am I."

From the look on his face, that bit of information came close to breaking Paul's alcohol and drug soaked brain. "Cops?" He blinked a couple of times and then brightened a little. "You guys have parties?" So that's what they did with the hookers and blow when they busted up someone else's party. "Are we gonna be late? Tammy's already pissed at me."

"We have the best parties." Danny nodded and flashed a grin at the young cop behind Paul's head. "If she's already mad now why bother with how she's going to feel later?" With both of them it was easier to get Paul to the car, and dump him into the back seat. The cop on duty ran to the front door where he took some information from the couple living there before they left. "First class ride man huh?" Danny said closing the door behind Paul and getting into the passenger seat up front.

Paul went quiet, considering Danny's relationship advice as he was helped into the car. "Maaaan. I dun want Tammy to be mad. Tammy's.... she's an angel. I love Tammy. She smells good, and she can cook and she puts up with my shit. How many women in the world can do all that at the same time? She farts in her sleep, but I think everybody does that. See... she's the best thing that ever happened to me and I keeping going and fucking things up." Paul was headed rapidly into sloppy crying drunk territory.

"I dunno, my wife meets most of the those qualities as well. Minus the farting." Danny wouldn't sell Janey out to some stranger. Honestly though, he could relate to fucking things up. His relationship with Janey was in decent shape considering, but Danny had been feeling quite like he'd been fucking things up since New Year's.

Again Paul went quiet, and there was almost smoke coming out of his ears from the effort he put into thinking about this. "Seriously?..." One would think he was pondering the possibility that there might be a woman in the world that could compare to his Tammy. But... "She doesn't fart at all? Like... ever?" Drunk crying averted by fart talk.

"Nope, never." Sure it wasn't true but it was fun playing with the drunk guy. The young cop was trying to calm down the owner of the house, who Danny guessed was probably interested in pressing charges. Not that the guy would get more than a fine and probably probation but still, it would be a record nonetheless. Giving in, the cop finally came down the stoop and towards the car. Helping the kid out was derailing Danny's original plan to find Cheyenne, but it was almost too late for that anyway.

"Not even silent ones?" Paul was just amazed. "There's gotta be a way to make money off a thing like that." The young officer returned and Paul just had to share. "Hey... this guy's wife doesn't fart. Not ever... I thought there could be a way to make money off that, but I guess if there was a show or something, it would be better if she could fart God Bless America, because nobody's going to pay to watch somebody not fart. Unless they're pole dancing, but since she's a cop's wife that's probably out." He was still jabbering, but his speech was starting to slow down, a sure sign that he'd probably fall asleep or pass out soon.

Danny rolled his eyes as the other cop put the car in gear and pulled out of the drive, pointing the car in the direction of the police station. "Figure we'll take him back and then dump him in the tank for the night?" The other cop nodded as he drove. "Hey pal," Danny addressed Paul, turning around in his seat. "You got a name?" It was best to get it before the idiot passed out in the back of the car.

"Huh.. Paulie... nice to meetcha.. what's your name?" Paul stuck out his hand to shake, and then realized there was a grate between them and settled for a wave. He then patted himself and pulled out a pack of camels. "You got a light?"

"Paulie, come with a last name?" Danny rapped on the grate between them, but held up his lighter anyway. If the moron could get the cigarette through it, he'd give the guy the light.

Paul unsteadily stuck the cigarette through the grate, and at every drunken waver and every bounce as the car turned or hit a pot hole, it seemed like the cigarette would absolutely have to be crushed, but somehow the tip just bobbed back and forth. He sucked on the butt to get it lit, and between puffs... "Haas... Paul Haas.. Was your name again?"

Danny choked a little when he heard the guy's name. "Haas? As in Jackson Haas?" Didn't Jack have a brother? The guy rarely talked about his life besides to bitch and moan about how much of his time it took up and how it made everything else he wanted in life harder.

"No. I told you. I'm Paulie. Jackson's taller." He lounged in the back seat, leaning on one elbow, smoking, and a somber look came to his face. "Jackson's taller. And not as drunk." He was quiet for a moment, just smoking, then he rubbed his eyes. "What the fuck, man? We're supposed to be partying and you gotta bring Jackson up?"

"We're still headed towards the party buddy," Danny told him, tapping on the grate again. "And no one really brought up Jackson, you brought him up." So this was Jack's brother. No wonder Jackson had a damn God complex if this guy was his brother. Hell Danny would feel the same way. Granted bringing in Jackson's brother meant he had to call the damn shmuck. Ugh, he thought rubbing his temples. That was definitely not what he wanted to do tonight.

"Why the hell did I bring up Jackson? Fuckin kill the mood." He lay down on the seat, blowing smoke up at the roof. Paul was really starting to drift, and his lit cigarette was drifting toward the seat. "Jackson doesn't know shit..." The cigarette slipped out of his hand, onto the seat, and then onto the floorboard as his eyes rolled, and then closed.

Awesome. Dumb fuck was passed out cold. And his lit cigarette was slowly burning a hole in the floorboard. Fantastic. Thankfully they were close to the station and after a few moments pulled into the station lot and Danny was able to jump out and not only stomp out the cigarette, but get a good hand on their charge's bottom half. "Run in and get them ready. He's barely going to handle a printing, let alone a mug shot. Might not be worth it really. Do it after he sleeps it off." Danny tugged hard, trying to drag Paul out of the car.

Paul didn't resist at all, but he didn't do anything particularly useful, or helpful either. As he slipped out of the car he made a noise that sounded like "HERK", but it turned out to be just a snore.

Danny let Paul hit the ground outside the car unceremoniously, definitely not carrying if he was hurt in the process. First, Danny was already feeling a little pent up frustration, plus if this fuck was Jackon's brother, and if Danny remembered anything about Jack's brother, then Jack didn't like this guy. That meant Danny didn't like this guy. They might be fighting but Jack was still his best friend.

Paul slid out of the car, limp as a ragdoll. His butt hit the pavement about the same he went over a little sideways and his face hit the car door with a satisfying smack. The guy didn't even grunt, though his lip was busted and his ass had to be bruised. He'd be feeling that in the morning.

So Danny grinned a little when Paul's head hit the door. At least when he talked to Jack he could give him that good news. It might ease the blow. Or distract him from the fact that they'd killed a guy together. "C'mon dummy," Danny grumbled, managing to lift Paul up enough to get an arm under him and drag him into the building. Ok so he might have banged the guy into a few obstacles along the way. Oops.

When he woke in the morning, all the little aches and bruises would make Paul wonder if he'd been in a little fender bender or something, but then he would remember that his car had been in the river for about three months. He really wouldn't remember a whole lot of the previous night beyond a lot of playing cards and drinking, and then something about a girl who could fart God Bless America.

With a gentle shove, Danny dropped Paul into an open cell. Actually considering Danny's move, Paul half hit the cot along the wall. "He's down for the count boys," he told the guards on duty. "We'll print and take a mug shot in the morning. Let him stay over night." Danny walked off, headed towards the main room of the station where he could call Jackson.