Thrills and Spills

AU: Four Corners Police Department (FCPD)

By: Heidi

CHARACTERS:  Six of the Seven, and a couple OC's.  Any more than that and I give it away.
WARNINGS:  A few bad words. 
Disclaimer:  This is a work of fiction inspired from the characters of the Western TV show "The Magnificent Seven."  No copyright infringement intended to the Mirisch Corp, Trilogy, MGM, CBS, TNN, or any others holding rights to them.  No profit will be made from this work.

Author's Notes:  This fic came about from a challenge issued on a list by my pard, Cin, about what the following items have in common:  White-out, Bulletproof Vest, Laser Printer, Fire Escape, and Windshield Wiper.  Answer: women created them, but the challenge was to include them in a fic.   

This AU is archived at if you are interested in reading more about it; the AU is a work in progress, with more than half of it done, and a considerable chunk that is!  This piece comes before the beginning of the AU, so it's more like an introduction.

"Sanchez!  What are you doing here?"  Mackie grinned at the older man taking a position by the telephones in the Communications Center of the Four Corners Police Department.  Currently on light duty, Mackie worked the front booth as the officer of the day, handling the walk-in complaints from citizens and sharing the space with the girls in Communications.  "Never mind; it's raining out so your arthritis must be acting up."

"And you're getting uglier by the day."  Josiah grinned at him.  Their usual insult match began.  "So, while you're here pretending you're injured, the rest of us are carrying your slack."

"I've got it made, Josiah.  I've got the lovely ladies in here to converse with, while you talk to the cows, horses and sheep up North."

"Cows, horses, and sheep are smarter than some humans."

"Don't even get me started."  Mackie held a hand up.  "Especially about the sheep."

"Just remember, son, I ran your butt off when you came here, and watch who you call arthritic.  I can still outrun you."

"Have to catch the sheep, that's why."  Seeing Josiah's face, he limped to his chair and sat down.  "You wouldn't hurt an injured man, would you?"

"I'll wait until you're better."  Josiah's face-splitting grin only managed to scare Mackie. 

The officer of the day cleared his throat.  "You better get to Roll Call.  Lt. Halter hates it when people are late."

The grin widened, if possible.  "I'm here for the night."

"Here?"  Mackie cleared his throat.

"All twelve hours."

"And me without my gun."

"Yup."  Josiah turned to Casey.  "Where do you want me?"

"You can do both the radio and the phones, right?"

"Haven't lost my touch yet."

"Phones first, that way if something major breaks loose, I've got it."

"Rather it be that way."  Josiah smiled at the cute woman, pleased to be here with her. 

The shift started quietly, the rain discouraging the majority of lawbreakers from taking their business outside.  The phones rarely rang, usually for a residential or commercial alarm, and a few scattered noise complaints.

Around nine, the 911 line rang and Josiah answered it.  "Police Emergency."

The caller screamed, "Oh my God!  They just shot somebody!"


"Yucca Apartments, Building B-4.  There's a fight in the apartment and a bunch of people are running around.  It's apartment J, on the third floor."

Josiah quickly keyed in the location and sent the call over to Casey's computer.  While she dispatched the call, he continued taking information.  "Where's the person that got shot, ma'am?"

"Still in the apartment.  Hurry!"

"Ma'am, there are officers on the way." 

Josiah stayed on the phone with the caller, obtaining suspect descriptions, while his shift mates responded code to the location.

Buck arrived first, charging up to the third floor apartment with Chris right on his heels.  Ezra stayed mobile in the area, stopping anyone that looked remotely close to the descriptions for the suspects Casey provided over the radio.  Nathan and Nina checked the back and sides of the targeted building, looking for the suspects.  They didn't get too close, as not to be in firing range, but close enough to see anyone that tried to run. 

"Foot Pursuit!"  Buck yelled this in the radio, spotting three people jumping out the window and scurrying down the fire escape.  He dove out the window after them.   

Nathan took off after the first one that hit the ground, running full speed after him. 

The second one headed for Ezra, so Nina radioed that one and waited for the third.  The third one practically skipped down the fire stairs, leaping over the last landing and hit the ground in a roll.  Nina almost reached him when she heard a clatter on the stairs.  Buck tried the same move and slipped on the wet metal, his feet going out from under him and sliding down the stairs in a ball.

"Buck?"  Nina started for him, letting the suspect go, when he yelled back at her.

"Get him!"

"Going!"  Nina took off on foot after the fast runner.  Gaining on the runner, she felt another presence behind her, and knew it was Chris from the breathing.  They ran together often during their days with the Nevada Highway Patrol, and she recognized the pattern.  "He's mine," she wheezed.

"Hell, no." 

They pushed harder, both closing the distance between them, but the pursuit took them far away from prying eyes.  As they crossed the meadow and went into the woods, the two police officers finally caught up to the suspect, tackling him and taking him down, tumbling down a large hill to a stop in a very muddy puddle. 

"You're under arrest!"  Chris snarled, flipping the man on his face and yanking his arms behind him.

Nina patted him down, pulling his head up and laughing at the chagrined face.  "Don't you know by now you can't out-run us?"

"Aw, hell."  The raspy Texas accent muttered the curse with a smile.  The smile was the only clean part of all three of them, since they rolled to a stop in the mud puddle.  "Reckon ya both need yer exercise, that's why I run."

"Like hell."  Chris grunted. 

"Got a tape in my back pocket."

"Goody." Nina reached for it.

"Larabee, don't let her near my butt."  Vin's cuffed hands protectively covered his backside.

"Why not, Vin?  I'm covered in mud because of you."

"She's got no shame!" 

"I'm right here, Vin."  Nina smiled in the darkness.  "And my hand is!"  She reached in and snatched the tape, tucking it in her front pocket.  Her other hand patted his backside.

"Get yer hands off me, Caswell."

Chris just laughed, pulling them up and out of the puddle. 

Nathan's voice cut through the hilarity.  "11-04, FC.   One in custody, mark recovery of CDS on the card."  This meant that he found drugs on the person that ran and he caught, placing the person under arrest.

Casey answered, "10-4."

"K9-16, FC."  Ezra's smooth tones called the dispatcher.

"K9-16," Casey acknowledged.

"Be advised I have one in custody, CDS recovery also."

"10-4, second in custody.  11-01, your status?"

"Chris, that's you.  How are you answering this?"  Nina wiped some mud off her nose.

Groaning, Chris looked at Vin, and then at the smirking Nina.  He answered, "We're okay, FC.  We lost the suspect." 

"10-4.  Did you need K9-16 to respond?"  She asked if Chris wanted Ezra and his police canine, Ace, to come to their last location and do a track for the suspect.

"Negative."  Buck answered for Chris.  "Suspect they pursued unrelated to incident, no charges."

"10-4.  11-01, direct on 11-02's transmission?"

"That's correct, FC." 

Nina released Vin, and then started laughing.  "11-08, 11-02."  She called Buck on the radio.

"11-02."  Buck answered her.

"You okay?"

He sounded chagrined when he answered her.  "That's correct."

"10-4."  Nina held her sides.  

"What's so funny?"  Vin looked at her, covered in mud, and laughing like a loon, wanting to know the cause.

"Did you see it, Chris?"  She looked at her sergeant and squad leader.

"No, came out the front."

"Vin here did this graceful leap off the fire escape, tucking and rolling out of it.  Didn't see his face at the time, but saw the nice jump.  Buck tries the same thing, and he falls down the fire escape in this big ol' ball."

Chris' face registered alarm.  "I'll have Nathan check him when we get back."

"We better go, then.  Vin, honey, take care of yourself.  You hear me?"  Nina grabbed him in a big hug, not caring she got more mud on her uniform.  He hugged her back, hating the fact that he was working undercover and that he could only meet with his friends and squad mates during situations like this.  Before he let her go, he picked her up and threw her back in the mud.  She squealed in protest.

"Always, but don't let strange men throw you around, sweetie."  He blew her an air kiss, since she was practically a sister to him, and turned to face Larabee.  "Chris."  Vin held out his hand.

They clasped forearms, a silent message passing between them, Chris telling Vin to take care of himself, and Vin silently saying he would.  Before they let go, a wet and muddy Caswell tackled them both, smearing handfuls of mud in their hair and faces.  She took off on foot, racing through the woods.  Her laughter carried through the woods. 

"I'm gonna kill her!" Chris roared, dreading the amount of mud she smeared into his already ruined hair. 

"Get in line."  Vin laughed, reaching over to smear more mud in Larabee's face.  "Go on, get out of here.  I'll wait about an hour or so before following, that way no one gets suspicious."

"I hate this." 

"I know, pard.  I know."  Tanner patted his good friend on the back, just before shoving him the direction Nina left. 

"Take care of yourself."  Chris stared at his friend, still reluctant to leave this rare meeting.

"I will." 

With a sigh, Chris returned to the crime scene, only to find out that the occupants of the apartment thought it would be funny to fill a gun with blanks and shoot someone, remotely setting off some squibs of blood to make it look real.  Highly pissed and muddy, he went to his car and found some towels to wrap around him and protect the interior of his vehicle.  He saw Caswell doing the same, but she was returning to patrol.  Chris stuffed Ezra's prisoner in his car, and both Nathan and Ezra followed him to the jail to do their paperwork and drop off the two prisoners.

The sergeant returned to the station, taking a shower and removing the majority of the mud from his body.  Once he did that, he walked up to Communications to compliment Casey on a job well done.  He entered just in time to duck the bottle of White-Out thrown at Josiah by Mackie.

"What the hell?" 

Josiah laughed.  "Evening, brother.  Mackie was just showing me the fine points of White-Out being a weapon."

"Sorry, sir."  Mackie avoided Larabee's direct gaze.

"Really?"  Chris picked it up and launched the bottle at the window, hearing a satisfying smack.  It rebounded pretty far, nearly taking his head off, and coming to a stop on top of the laser printer.  "Damn."

"Yes, sir.  I'm just waiting for Wilmington to come in here."  Mackie grinned evilly. 

Larabee said, "He might be limping."

"What happened?"  Concerned, Josiah turned pale blue eyes to his friend. 

"He slid down the fire escape during the foot pursuit." 

"Way to go, Wilmington."  Mackie grabbed his radio.  After checking that Casey was not about to use it, he said, "14-04, 11-02." 

Buck answered it reluctantly.  "11-02."

"Channel Four."  He asked Buck to go to Channel Four, the non-published channel for the Police Department.

"10-4."  A few seconds later, Buck keyed up on the requested channel.  "11-02."

"Doing a Jackie Chan and failing?"

"King Mary Adam."  This translated into 'Kiss My Ass' by using the phonetic alphabet for the first letter of each word, similar to CDS, or Charles David Sam, meaning Controlled Dangerous Substance (drugs).

"Negative.  Let 11-08."   He suggested Nina do the honors.

Josiah hit Mackie squarely in the shoulder with White-Out.  "Now you've done it."

"11-08, 14-04." 

Mackie answered the outraged feminine voice.  "11-08."

"Be advised that I'm familiar with a few more reasons for your continued medical leave.  King will have an entirely different meaning when I see your Adam."   

Mackie answered, "Bring it."

Nina said very loud, and very succinctly, with pauses between syllables for maximum effect, "Ten - Four."

Chris smirked.  "She will.  Has to come here for uniform maintenance as soon as I relieve her."

"Crap.  Okay, I've got my bulletproof vest on, the glass is bulletproof, we lock the doors, presto, she's not getting in here.  I've got less than an hour left because of my schedule flexing for my doctor's appointment this morning, so I'm good."

Josiah started laughing.  "You wish."

"Shut up, you old fart."

Sanchez hit him with a thrown pen.  "Better old and wise than young and dumb."

"Ladies, I'll see you later."  Chris left, heading out to his car and tossing the dirty towels in the trunk.  He pulled out of the lot, finding Nina in the bar sector, and pulled up beside her.  For a minute, the only sound they could hear was the two sets of windshield wipers as they stared at each other.  Chris finally broke the silence.  "I know."

"I hate this."

"I do too, Neen."

"I know Vin's a big boy, but I worry about him."

"So do I."  He reached over and squeezed her hand.  "We'll get through it."

She squeezed back.  "I know."

"By the way, you're muddy as hell."

Nina looked down.  "That I am."  She flicked a clump at him, watching it hit the windshield, and the wipers smearing it everywhere.  "See ya!"  She pulled off, knowing that her continued good health depended on not being there when he finally reacted.

"I'll get you later, Caswell.  I'll get you later."  Chris activated the wipers again, this time with the fluid, and cleaned off the mud.  "When you least expect it."