POI fic: Dog Day Afternoon
TITLE: Dog Day Afternoon
AUTHOR: whomii2
DISCLAIMER: do not own
NOTE: for my trope bingo square: au were
Reese left central booking and made his way back upstairs to his desk. Their latest Number had turned out to be a perpetrator, and not a very smart one at that. Which was just as well, because Professor Whistler had to present a paper so Harold was unavailable most of the day. Fusco had also begged off saying he needed to check something out related to another case. As his desk was still empty it seemed he was still on his other errand, meaning “Detective Riley” might have to do his own paperwork this time. Reese enjoyed the satisfaction of putting the bad guys away, but he wasn't too fond of the accompanying red tape. Fortunately Lionel had been doing 90% of “Riley's” paperwork. But it looked like that wasn't an option in this case. Reese had just settled in to get started when he was interrupted by a rather odd phone call. Checking the time, he figured Harold would be finished with his alter ego's obligations and gave the other man a call.
“Something I can do for you Mr. Reese?”
“Do you know where Bear is Harold?”
“Yes, he is with me. I just picked him up from Mr. Tao and was headed to the subway. But if you need him for something I can meet you and drop him off.”
“No, no that's fine. I was just wondering why a shelter was calling Detective Riley saying they had his police dog.”
“Oh dear. Mr. Reese, when was the last time you saw Detective Fusco?”
“Lionel has been gone most of the day. Said he had something to take care of on another case. Why, what's the matter?” Reese was starting to get alarmed at the anxiety he could hear in Finch's voice. But he never expected the secret the other man shared.
“What! Lionel's a Were! Why didn't you tell me” Reese hissed into the phone, looking around to be sure no one could overhear the conversation.
“I respect Detective Fusco's privacy the same way I respect yours John.”
“Of course you do Harold.” John was glad that the doll cam couldn't catch the expression on his face. Apparently Finch was completely unaware of the irony of his last sentence. “I just wish I had known sooner.”
“Well you know now. My concern is that it isn't the full moon and the Detective isn't a new Were. He has been managing his condition successfully for some time now. If he has gotten himself caught and taken to a shelter I can only surmise that something is wrong.”
“Gotcha. I'm on my way now” Reese said as he retrieved his gun from his drawer and took his jacket off the back of his chair. The paperwork would have to wait. Lionel could take care of it later, it was the least he could do after worrying them like this.
***
Lionel lay on the floor of his pen wondering where it had all gone wrong. The barking of the other denizens and the lingering headache from earlier weren't helping his sour mood. Fortunately all animal shelters were no kill shelters nowadays. Weres had been a fact of life for a number of years. As man became more civilized, so did the Weres. Instead of transforming into fierce wolves most Weres nowadays transformed into dogs. It made it hard for the general public to view Weres as terrifying monsters when they looked so much like their boon companions. Some Weres were actually rather cute. But it complicated things for animal shelters. As lycanthropy was a supernatural condition, there was no blood test that could differentiate common dogs from a shifted Were. Which was a good thing, because it meant that Weres also couldn't be detected in their mundane human form. While there were laws protecting their rights, there was still a lot of social stigma associated with lycanthropy, so most Weres tried to keep their condition to themselves.
Only some of the folktales about lycanthropy were true. It wasn't a hereditary condition. It could only be passed on by a bite from a shifted Were at the time of the full moon. Any other time and a Were bite was just a bite. Fusco had been infected by a perp he was trying to arrest. He thought the guy was high on something when he scratched and bit at Fusco while he was trying to get him in cuffs. It had been enough of a distraction that the skinny dude had managed to wriggle away and make an escape. Fusco had been annoyed but hadn't thought much about it until about a month later. Lionel was glad Lee and his ex had already moved out so that he was alone in the apartment during what he suspected was his first transformation. Too much to drink might have explained the trashed apartment and Lionel's nudity the next morning, but no amount of beer would have led to him chewing up the sofa cushions. A quick check of the calendar showed it had been a full moon, both the night before and when the escaped perpetrator had bitten his arm. That explained a lot.
A friend in vice had gotten Lionel the name of an herbalist that sold the wolfsbane/silver nitrate mixture most Weres used to control their changes. Like antihistamines for people with allergies, the concoction allowed Weres to avoid changing when the moon was full. It might make them a bit grumpy and irritable, but that would go away when they managed to change at some more convenient time. No one wanted to explain recurring absences that coincided with the full moon. After the first involuntary shift most Weres quickly acclimated, being able to direct their actions and remember what they did while in their shifted form. The shift also brought with it a few perks: wounds healed faster, illnesses were shorter, and the effects of poisons or other substances were reduced by changing from human to Were. It had come in handy for Lionel after getting shot in the butt, and also earlier that day.
He had been chasing down an old confidential informant that might have some insight into the Brotherhood's drug trade. It had been a while since he had checked in with that particular CI. Fusco hadn't realized that Randy had apparently started cooking up his own product. Randy hadn't been too pleased to have Fusco show up at his lab, and had thrown a whole batch of the stuff in Lionel's face before running off. The way his heart started racing and the trouble he had catching his breath indicated whatever it was, Fusco had been exposed to too much of it. In desperation he had shifted to his dog form, hoping the change would counteract most of the effect. It seemed to have worked, although not completely, or else Lionel would have never been caught and would have a clearer recollection of what had gone down.
Lionel had already made contingency plans for such a situation. He wore some literal dog tags on a chain around his neck that he kept hidden under his clothes. The chain was loose enough to not choke him during a change, and the tags had the name and number of someone to call if Lionel ever got into trouble in his canine form. It had hurt to have to remove the tag with Carter's information. He had substituted Riley's information, although he had hoped never to have to use it.
But that hope was in vain. Now he just had to hope his partner got Glasses to clue him in. Wonderboy was never gonna let him live this down. As if summoned by Lionel's gloomy thoughts, the man himself was escorted to Lionel's pen by a young volunteer.
“There you are. You've been a bad dog Grumpy-puss” Reese said with a particularly irritating smirk.
“Sir, His tag says 'Leo'”
“That's what my partner calls him. But I think Grumpy-puss is more apt. Don't you agree?”
The young girl giggled. “He certainly doesn't look too happy at the moment.”
Lionel thought he had every right to be grouchy. But he supposed he shouldn't look too upset with his supposed owner. Just wait until the two of them were alone though. Reese, seeming to pick up on that vibe, gave him an 'I dare you' look before opening the door to Lionel's pen. Lionel stalked out in a huff with as much dignity as he could muster given the situation. He really wished it had been Glasses coming to his rescue. Once the two of them were seated in Reese's car, John contacted the Harold to let him know he had successfully retrieved their colleague. Lionel was flattered by the relief he could hear in the Bossman's voice when he got the news. Even better, while Reese had been on his way to the shelter, Harold had triangulated the location of Fusco's phone and could guide John to the location (since Lionel currently was unable to give directions). Lionel doubted that his CI would have returned to the lab, and he really wanted to retrieve his badge and gun.
And if he wanted to be human again, a pair of pants would be nice.
AUTHOR: whomii2
DISCLAIMER: do not own
NOTE: for my trope bingo square: au were
Reese left central booking and made his way back upstairs to his desk. Their latest Number had turned out to be a perpetrator, and not a very smart one at that. Which was just as well, because Professor Whistler had to present a paper so Harold was unavailable most of the day. Fusco had also begged off saying he needed to check something out related to another case. As his desk was still empty it seemed he was still on his other errand, meaning “Detective Riley” might have to do his own paperwork this time. Reese enjoyed the satisfaction of putting the bad guys away, but he wasn't too fond of the accompanying red tape. Fortunately Lionel had been doing 90% of “Riley's” paperwork. But it looked like that wasn't an option in this case. Reese had just settled in to get started when he was interrupted by a rather odd phone call. Checking the time, he figured Harold would be finished with his alter ego's obligations and gave the other man a call.
“Something I can do for you Mr. Reese?”
“Do you know where Bear is Harold?”
“Yes, he is with me. I just picked him up from Mr. Tao and was headed to the subway. But if you need him for something I can meet you and drop him off.”
“No, no that's fine. I was just wondering why a shelter was calling Detective Riley saying they had his police dog.”
“Oh dear. Mr. Reese, when was the last time you saw Detective Fusco?”
“Lionel has been gone most of the day. Said he had something to take care of on another case. Why, what's the matter?” Reese was starting to get alarmed at the anxiety he could hear in Finch's voice. But he never expected the secret the other man shared.
“What! Lionel's a Were! Why didn't you tell me” Reese hissed into the phone, looking around to be sure no one could overhear the conversation.
“I respect Detective Fusco's privacy the same way I respect yours John.”
“Of course you do Harold.” John was glad that the doll cam couldn't catch the expression on his face. Apparently Finch was completely unaware of the irony of his last sentence. “I just wish I had known sooner.”
“Well you know now. My concern is that it isn't the full moon and the Detective isn't a new Were. He has been managing his condition successfully for some time now. If he has gotten himself caught and taken to a shelter I can only surmise that something is wrong.”
“Gotcha. I'm on my way now” Reese said as he retrieved his gun from his drawer and took his jacket off the back of his chair. The paperwork would have to wait. Lionel could take care of it later, it was the least he could do after worrying them like this.
***
Lionel lay on the floor of his pen wondering where it had all gone wrong. The barking of the other denizens and the lingering headache from earlier weren't helping his sour mood. Fortunately all animal shelters were no kill shelters nowadays. Weres had been a fact of life for a number of years. As man became more civilized, so did the Weres. Instead of transforming into fierce wolves most Weres nowadays transformed into dogs. It made it hard for the general public to view Weres as terrifying monsters when they looked so much like their boon companions. Some Weres were actually rather cute. But it complicated things for animal shelters. As lycanthropy was a supernatural condition, there was no blood test that could differentiate common dogs from a shifted Were. Which was a good thing, because it meant that Weres also couldn't be detected in their mundane human form. While there were laws protecting their rights, there was still a lot of social stigma associated with lycanthropy, so most Weres tried to keep their condition to themselves.
Only some of the folktales about lycanthropy were true. It wasn't a hereditary condition. It could only be passed on by a bite from a shifted Were at the time of the full moon. Any other time and a Were bite was just a bite. Fusco had been infected by a perp he was trying to arrest. He thought the guy was high on something when he scratched and bit at Fusco while he was trying to get him in cuffs. It had been enough of a distraction that the skinny dude had managed to wriggle away and make an escape. Fusco had been annoyed but hadn't thought much about it until about a month later. Lionel was glad Lee and his ex had already moved out so that he was alone in the apartment during what he suspected was his first transformation. Too much to drink might have explained the trashed apartment and Lionel's nudity the next morning, but no amount of beer would have led to him chewing up the sofa cushions. A quick check of the calendar showed it had been a full moon, both the night before and when the escaped perpetrator had bitten his arm. That explained a lot.
A friend in vice had gotten Lionel the name of an herbalist that sold the wolfsbane/silver nitrate mixture most Weres used to control their changes. Like antihistamines for people with allergies, the concoction allowed Weres to avoid changing when the moon was full. It might make them a bit grumpy and irritable, but that would go away when they managed to change at some more convenient time. No one wanted to explain recurring absences that coincided with the full moon. After the first involuntary shift most Weres quickly acclimated, being able to direct their actions and remember what they did while in their shifted form. The shift also brought with it a few perks: wounds healed faster, illnesses were shorter, and the effects of poisons or other substances were reduced by changing from human to Were. It had come in handy for Lionel after getting shot in the butt, and also earlier that day.
He had been chasing down an old confidential informant that might have some insight into the Brotherhood's drug trade. It had been a while since he had checked in with that particular CI. Fusco hadn't realized that Randy had apparently started cooking up his own product. Randy hadn't been too pleased to have Fusco show up at his lab, and had thrown a whole batch of the stuff in Lionel's face before running off. The way his heart started racing and the trouble he had catching his breath indicated whatever it was, Fusco had been exposed to too much of it. In desperation he had shifted to his dog form, hoping the change would counteract most of the effect. It seemed to have worked, although not completely, or else Lionel would have never been caught and would have a clearer recollection of what had gone down.
Lionel had already made contingency plans for such a situation. He wore some literal dog tags on a chain around his neck that he kept hidden under his clothes. The chain was loose enough to not choke him during a change, and the tags had the name and number of someone to call if Lionel ever got into trouble in his canine form. It had hurt to have to remove the tag with Carter's information. He had substituted Riley's information, although he had hoped never to have to use it.
But that hope was in vain. Now he just had to hope his partner got Glasses to clue him in. Wonderboy was never gonna let him live this down. As if summoned by Lionel's gloomy thoughts, the man himself was escorted to Lionel's pen by a young volunteer.
“There you are. You've been a bad dog Grumpy-puss” Reese said with a particularly irritating smirk.
“Sir, His tag says 'Leo'”
“That's what my partner calls him. But I think Grumpy-puss is more apt. Don't you agree?”
The young girl giggled. “He certainly doesn't look too happy at the moment.”
Lionel thought he had every right to be grouchy. But he supposed he shouldn't look too upset with his supposed owner. Just wait until the two of them were alone though. Reese, seeming to pick up on that vibe, gave him an 'I dare you' look before opening the door to Lionel's pen. Lionel stalked out in a huff with as much dignity as he could muster given the situation. He really wished it had been Glasses coming to his rescue. Once the two of them were seated in Reese's car, John contacted the Harold to let him know he had successfully retrieved their colleague. Lionel was flattered by the relief he could hear in the Bossman's voice when he got the news. Even better, while Reese had been on his way to the shelter, Harold had triangulated the location of Fusco's phone and could guide John to the location (since Lionel currently was unable to give directions). Lionel doubted that his CI would have returned to the lab, and he really wanted to retrieve his badge and gun.
And if he wanted to be human again, a pair of pants would be nice.