That's MISTER Bunny to you


Why was it that criminals always ran? Jim Ellison wondered as he sprinted off after the man in front of him. All he had wanted to do was ask the guy a few questions, at least that was all he had wanted when he had gone to the man's house. When the guy ran out the back while Jim was talking to his wife at the front door, however, that had changed.

Since Jim had had to go around the house and get through an obstacle course of tricycles and jump ropes and bikes, the guy had a half block lead on him. Not a problem, since Jim ran regularly and this guy was out of shape, to say the least.

Just great, the guy was heading for the mall, wall to wall innocent bystanders and since next weekend was Easter, a ton of children there to see the Easter Bunny and have their picture taken sitting on his lap. Jim never liked the mall. His heightened senses made the place something akin to a two story torture chamber for him. He only went there if he was in need of something and then it was in and out.

At least people seemed to know how to clear a path in panic. Jim had his badge prominently displayed on his jacket collar as policy dictated. Jim's yelling got people's attention and, seeing a guy getting chased by a man with a badge, they were scattering like hens running from a fox, and pulling their children with them.

Jim groaned, as a pink fuzzy bunny came out from one of the mall employee only doors right into the path of the suspect. The man grabbed the rodent around the neck and whipped him around until he was between the man and Jim as a shield.

The large detective tried to stop so as to not panic the suspect into hurting the guy in the rabbit suit. Too late he realized that the crying kid that had been yanked out of the way by his mother had spilled his soda. Jim's feet slid on the liquid as he went crashing down, instinctively using an arm to break his fall and trying not scream in pain as he heard the sickening crunch of the bone snap in his wrist. The rabbit was going to have to take care of himself, now.

Lying there, Jim found the dial the way Blair had taught him to and turned the dial from the normal setting of five to two. No longer in agony, he turned to see what the situation was and then struggled to get up

"I called 911, officer, they've got backup on the way," a woman told him, while a young child peered at him from behind her.

Jim tried not to laugh as he struggled to his feet. The guy had grabbed the rabbit from behind only to get elbowed in the gut, then when the man was starting to double over, the rabbit threw his head back, head butting him, kind of, catching him square on the chin.

Jim grimaced as he saw Mr. Bunny continue his defense by spinning around and kneeing the man in the groin. The guy dropped his gun and grabbed himself.

"I'm sick and tired of you idiots grabbing and using me as a hostage! I am not your punching bag and I am not going to be threatened again, just so you can try and get away! For the last time, leave me alone!" the bunny shouted in a familiar voice.

A furry foot shot out, kicking the gun towards Jim, just as the criminal tried to get away and the rabbit grabbed him and smashed his head against a pink hind quarter, er, knee. The suspect wisely hit the ground and stayed there, holding his privates in one hand and his copiously bleeding nose in the other.

Jim smiled as backup came in the form of two uniformed officers, who caught the guy as the Easter bunny, in a fit of pique literally threw the guy at them, still grumbling at them that he was sick and tired of every nut case in the city coming after him.

One of the patrolmen turned to Jim, having spotted his badge, while the other one cuffed the bruised and bleeding man who was talking like Elmer Fudd, due to the wad of Kleenex the officer had shoved on his bleeding nose until medical aide could arrive. A third officer had arrived and was starting to organize the witnesses and take statements.

"So, who's the arresting officer here, Ellison? The Whaskly Wabbit over there, or you?" One of the men asked.

The pink rabbit removed his head and ran over to his friend and partner.

"Jim, are you okay?"

"Nice suit, Sandburg," one of the uniforms laughed.

"First time the arresting officer has been the Easter Bunny," Another of the men smirked.

Jim groaned, not in pain, and Blair just closed eyes, he was never going to hear the end of this. All he had wanted to do was earn a little extra money over a couple of weekends and evenings.

Jim sighed as a pair of paramedics arrived on the scene. There was no way to avoid them, particularly since Blair knew he had been hurt and was hovering next to him.

"Chief, why don't you go and get changed while they check me out?" Jim suggested, seeing that Blair had moved off and was walking slowly around the giant egg seat with his head down.

"I, um, well, I sort of lost the key to my locker in the scuffle," Blair explained, sighing as he came over to rejoin his friend.

"You go with Ellison, we'll find the key," One of the officers offered. He was a seasoned veteran and knew that when your partner was hurt you didn't waste time on things like keys.

"Good idea, you can ride with us to the hospital and they can bring you your clothes there," the man splinting Jim's wrist suggested. He had dealt with this pair before and there was no way on this planet he wanted to deal with one without the other one there as a backup.

Jim knew a losing battle when he saw one and quietly followed the paramedic out with his partner right behind carrying a large pink head and making a shuffling sound in oversized pink feet.

Blair saw Jim settled in the cubical and given a local anesthetic while his broken ulna, he had broken his arm not his wrist, was set and cast. Thankfully it was as simple break, and headed to the pharmacy to get the prescriptions filled.

When he entered the waiting room, it was to clapping, cheering, and laughter. He was nearly as pink as the head he had tucked under one arm.

"Sandburg, I don't think that guy is ever going to look at rabbits in quite the same way," Simon boomed, laughing.

"I always thought you must be related to the Energizer Bunny, man," H chuckled.

"Roberts dropped this off for you," Rafe grinned, handing Blair a bag with his clothes and wallet in it.

Blair said nothing, but took the bag and began walking past them.

"Is Jim okay?" Simon asked, the humor over, now.

"He's fine, just has a broken wrist and a terminal case of embarrassment," Blair assured him.

"Good thing he has you so well trained in doing his reports," H chuckled.

Simon and Blair looked at him in confusion.

"You type Jim's reports?" Simon looked at the younger man.

"No, Jim types his own reports; you know how he is, he figures it's part of his job and his responsibility as the arresting officer. Besides, you've had me typing up my own reports ever since Kincaid took over the station," Blair pointed out.

Simon nodded; all was as it should be and as he had thought it was. "I've seen Jim's reports when he's typing one handed, as long as the cast is on, you can do his paperwork," Simon instructed.

Blair nodded, he had figured that he would likely be helping on the reports; he had not known that people thought that was what he was doing when he was typing up his thoughts and opinions of their cases for Simon.

It was the next day before he and Jim got into the station. They both groaned on seeing the detective's desk. It was buried in carrots, Easter bunnies and Energizer Bunnies. But the Carrot cake Rhonda brought in was wonderful.

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