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
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
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.
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.
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.
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
"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?"
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
"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
"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.
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.
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.
fine, just has a broken wrist and a terminal case of embarrassment," Blair assured
"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.
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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