Friday, April 10, 2009

drabble thursday100plus complaint challenge


Title: COMPLAINTS
Fandom: Criminal Intent
Characters: The Squadroom
Word Count: 1650
Rating: M+ (Language and sexual situations)
Summary: ROSS IS HAVING A VERY BAD DAY
Disclaimer: Not mine, we're only going out to play, have them back in time for dinner.
COMPLAINT CHALLENGE


Danny pulled Liz’s apartment door shut and keyed the dead bolts locked. She continued her rant about his detectives all the way to Police Plaza. As they entered the elevator she placed her hands on her hips and mentally stamped her foot, “Daniel Ross are you EVEN LISTENING TO ME,” her voice rising two octaves.

Sighing, “Yes, Liz. Yes.”

She pulled him off on her floor and gave him a quick smack on the lips. “I can’t cut any faster with them standing over me like Goren or calling me every fifteen minutes like Logan.”

“I promise, Liz. I’ll speak with them all.”

With a ‘Humph’ she left him.

The elevator stopped on the Lobby floor and the Chief of D’s got on and as soon as he saw Ross started in on him about the budget. Danny restrained himself from slapping the eleventh floor button and said a prayer when the doors opened and he exited and the chief continued on his voice still droning on his reproach.

Officer Black caught him at the corner and began his grievance, “Sir, its been two weeks and still the schedule hasn’t been changed you said you’d rearrange it last week.

Ross stopped and pulled out his PDA, with a couple of clicks he sighed again, “I’ll have it done by end of day.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Danny made it five steps before shouting from the conference room to his right drew him up short. Jefferies and his new partner turned as he, the boss, entered. Both started in griping about the incompetence of one and ineptitude of the other. Ross spent twenty of his precious minutes calming the usually placid Jefferies down and reminding the new guy he was still on probation and Jefferies was lead Detective.

He made it to the breakroom pouring fresh coffee into his own cup while listening to the Vendor filling the machines bellyache about the abuse his machines were taking from Ross’ people. That he was going to take the damn things out and they could go to the cafeteria for drinks. Or he was going to bolt them to the floor. Ross escaped after promising to tell his people not to kick and rock the machines...again.

He made it into his office without further incident. An hour later Falacci stormed into his office slamming the door. Glaring at Ross as she plopped down into the chair across from him.

Swearing to himself he stood and leaned against his desk in front of her, best a position of power when Detective Nola Falacci was on a rampage.

“Why,” she began shrilly, “does the word processing girl type up all of the male detectives reports before the women’s. Is she ballin’ them all, she just hate women…or are you telling’ her to?

“Watch it Falacci. I’m sure Caria doesn’t show any favoritism.

“HAH! Logan and I turn in our reports at the same time. Mine come back two days after his. E-V-E-R-Y TIME. This is ridiculous, Captain.”

Again Ross tried to soothe and finally had to pull rank hard to calm her down. Pushing her out into the bull pen he promised to follow up and get back to her.

Falacci stomped to their desks grabbed Logan’s arm, “Lunch.”

Mike looked into the captain’s face shrugged unhappily and followed.

Finally, Ross thought, and made it to the vending room and escaped back to his office through the mostly empty squad room.

Peace, at last.” He popped the top on the can and unwrapped his sandwich. The elevator pinged and raised voices reached him.

Alex’s raised voice echoed through the near-empty squad, “God damn it, Bobby. When I need you to back me up...Look, the Captain’s in...Come on.” He heard the soothing murmur of Bobby’s voice trying to calm her and lead her away from the him, and failing miserably. Trying to stop an Alex at full steam was like trying to stop a tsunami.

Damn, one fuckin’ bite.Ross washed down the bite held a pausing finger up to Alex’s red face and answered the phone. Five minutes later he hung up the phone and looked at Goren hovering in the doorway and Alex tapping her foot in a chair across from him.

“Come in and sit down. Shut the door first. That was the commissioner...”

Eames pounced to her feet, “There you go,” she turned and poked Bobby in the chest, “I told you so, I told you...fuckin’ politics.” She was up and pacing like a small jungle cat. ”And I guess YOU,” pointing at Ross, “ are going to kiss their asses again,” She was rounding his desk to confront him. Ross automatically covered his chest protectively with his palm in anticipation of a quick finger jab.

Both men’s mouth dropped. Ross blinked Goren, yeah he could see him charging at him...but Eames. Eames?

Bobby never moved so fast up out of the chair literally wrapping an arm around Eames' mid section--her spitting mad and lifting her off her feet and had her through the Captain’s door and on his way to the conference room.

“Sorry, Cap...we’ll be back in a few minutes.” He took kicks to his shins, pinches to his hands, an elbow to his flank and a head butt before he dropped her into a chair scooting to shut the door as Alex screamed in rage, as she quivered in fury. That all the bereaved family were stinking drunk had set her off.

Ross stood stunned wondering if he’d imagined the whole thing. He stumbled back into his chair and winced at the sound of a scream and breaking glass as a mug hit the wall in the conference room. For a moment he thought about going to rescue Goren but as an afterthought wondered who would rescue him.

By the time the squad room filled Ross had finished his sandwich, Eames had slunk, yes that was the only word that could describe the pitiful look on her tear swollen face as she eased back before him. Still she groused about how the Chief wanted the case solved but everyone was tying their hands in the investigation. Ross promised to go to bat for them with the Brass. But his hinting at diplomacy had Eames steamed up again, stomped out enraged again.

Ross tried to work on his paperwork but took one call after the other protesting the manner in which Goren & Eames were handling the McGovern case or criticizing their methods.

At two o’clock Caria brought him another stack of papers to sign and he confronted her about Falacci’s complaint.

“Yeah, I do type the guys first.”

“May I ask why?”

“I can type five of the guys reports before one of theirs.”

The guys use as few words as possible, sticking to facts. They don’t stop to dot I’s and cross T’s…they know I can take care of that, so the processing goes a lot faster. The female detectives it’s like they think like a thesaurus thinking of the longest word they can. And another thing, they can't just say ‘He walked across the street.’ its ‘The witness dressed in frayed jeans a flannel shirt with the top button opened white socks and black shoes with laces strolled across the rock strewn highway with two 8 cm deep potholes as he ambulated up to me and began to orate in a slow drawl. ’

“Captain, why do you need all that extra crap for a witness statement, who care what the witness was wearing or whether or not the street has potholes. They are horrible”

“Worse than Goren?” he asked out of curiosity.

“He uses big words but he spells them out carefully and sometimes gives me the definition to some so I can chose another word.

Ross listened to her bitch another ten minutes before he led her to his door promising to speak to them about it.

Son of a bitch, was this day never ending. His phone rang again.

Dr. Rodgers stepped out of the elevator her hands filled with files and just as she stepped behind the pole in back of Eames desk the slamming of Ross’ phone brought the squadroom to silence.

He stood ran his hand over his face then through his hair. He had no control over the carping of his ex-wife about the boys, but damn it to hell he did over his own department. Enough was enough.

Ross paused in his doorway, glared out at his domain, “Listen up, people,” he bellowed. Does my office look like Macy’s. If you're under that misconception-- this damn complaint department is fucking closed.” With that he slammed the door rattling his blinds.

Silence reigned until Liz Rodgers walked around Eames’ and Goren’s desks. Bobby reached out and touched her hand causing her to pause, “I wouldn’t.”

She patted his hand, “It’s okay. I think I may have lit the tinder on this flame, let’s see if I can put it out.”

Ross looked up when Liz opened the door prepared to flay the skin off someone. “Liz, now is not good.”

Silently she shut the door, locked it then closed the blinds. His eyebrows rose as she removed her lab coat followed by her clothes.

“Liz?” the croaking sound from lack of blood that had rushed from his head to his groin. She bent over him, "Think of me as a fire extinguisher, Danny" sealing her mouth to his as her finger got busy with buttons and zippers.

Thirty minutes later Liz walked past Bobby smiling, “Not a scratch.”

Bobby looked at Ross’ office then after Rodgers, bent forward and whispered to Eames. “Someone just got laid.”

“What? In his office? You’re crazy.”

“And you claim to be a Detective. Did you note the rosy blush on her cheeks, the red lips, the sparkle in her eye and a woman only swings her hips like that when she’s had really satisfying sex.”

“Alex looked back toward the elevators and Dr. Rodgers, then at Ross at his desk signing papers and whistling. She turned back to her partner.

“What are you doing looking at Dr. Rodger’s ass?”

2 comments:

Eliza said...

Not a big fan of Ross, but I actually enjoyed that, thank you. Oh, and Alexs line at the end was priceless :-D

val said...

I never think of things from Ross's point of view, so that was very interesting. Fun, too.