43Pete stood with one foot on the bottom rung of a thirty foot extension ladder; considering his options. Jim's plan was to use Jean's clothes line to help anchor the tree before they started cutting it down. The line ran from a five foot pole by the house to a thirty foot pole on the other end of the yard. Each pole had a crossbeam on the top to hold two seperate lines. This arrangement kept the clothes far enough above the ground that they would't interfere with Jimmy running around the yard.
Pete could use the ladder to climb to the top of the talller pole or let Jim do it. His father had told him that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. He had enough experience dealing with Jim and ladders to know that it was safer to climb the ladder than it was to hold it steady for him. Halfway up, the top of the pole seemed a lot farther away than it did from the bottom. He looked down at Jim and yelled.
"You know, there's a reason I didn't become a fireman." With each step the ladder wiggled, despite Jim's attempts to hold it steady. Personally, Pete would have purchased a ladder that, when leaning,wasn't two feet shorter than the pole. As it was, the top rung of the ladder was braced against the pole and not the crossbeam.
"I'm not going to die getting shot or crashing the squad car, nope. I'm going to break my neck over a dead tree and a defective ladder." Pete was talking to himself again, but Jim didn't listen when he tried for over four weeks to cancel this tree deal. Why would he listen now when Pete was twenty feet up a shaky ladder?
Pete pulled on the rope he was supposed to tie to the cross-beam of the pole. He had tied a large knot in the end of it before he started to climb. For some reason, or maybe experience, he felt the need for a back-up to Jim's ability to keep the ladder steady. He let out the rope and swung the knot like a grappling hook. With the knot over the crossbeam, Pete let out more rope and climbed another four rungs. The knot was eye level, swinging like a pendulum when he heard a voice yell; "Pete, grab the knot!" He did. Pete would later find out that Jimmy, having gotten away from his mother, ran out of the house and smack into Jim's legs with enough force to knock Jim down. When he went down, so did the ladder.
Pete was doing a fantastic imitation of the knot's behavior right before he grabbed it. He had the knot in his right hand and the other end of the rope in his left. The rope cut into his left hand before Pete could get a strong enough grip on it to stop his fall. His legs were desperately trying to find a rung of the ladder that wasn't there anymore.
Jim was trying to put the ladder back up, but his attempts were hindered by Pete's swinging. He managed to hit his friend in the leg three times before he heard Pete telling him to forget the ladder and grab the rope. In Jim's defense, it was hard to hear Pete over Jean's yelling. Jimmy was abnormally quiet, mesmerized by the sight of his Godfather swinging back and forth in the air.
Jim grabbed his end of the rope, anchored it over his shoulder and slowly let Pete down. Once he hit the ground, Pete kicked the ladder, threw the knot at Jim and reinforced Jimmy's knowledge of the "S" word. That was the only thing Pete said before he walked to his car, got in and left. He heard Jim calling him, Jean yelling at Jim and Jimmy singing the "S" word.
Later that day, Pete showed up early for work; he had some things to do before the shift. Pete had walked past the rows of lockers to take his uniform off the dry cleaning rack without acknowledging anyone's presence. Woods, one of those who were ignored, noticed the dark cloud above Pete's head. He knew better than to ask about it.
Pete turned into the row that had his locker in it to see Jim standing there grinning like a Jack-o-Lantern. Pete wasn't sure why Reed was grinning, but whatever his intent was, it backfired. It was the same stupid grin that Jim wore after letting Pete down from the pole. Pete had calmed down since then, but that grin brought it back. Jim's attempts to talk to him resulted in one word answers, yes and no; Reed would have had a better chance of getting an explanation from a rock. Other members of the watch were arriving and they noticed the problem between the two. It wasn't like Pete to shut Jim out.
They watched as Pete slammed his locker closed, picked up his stuff and left the room. He finally spoke when Walter's held the door open for him. Pete said "Thanks, I'll meet you in the breakroom" but it was more that Pete had said to Jim the whole time they were by the lockers. Jim's attempt to chase after his partner was hindered by the other officer's questions. "What's wrong with Pete? "Why's he mad at you?" "What happened to his hand?"
Jim pushed past them and left the locker room to find Pete. That last question confused him; he hadn't noticed that Pete hurt his hand. Jim saw Pete through the window of the watch commander's office. He was talking to Mac and it didn't look like they wanted company. Jim stood by the report desk in an attempt to peek in on Pete and Mac. What he saw didn't help much; he needed to hear what was being said. He did manage to see the bandage wrapped around Pete's hand.
Pete entered the watch commander's office without knocking. Mac was alone and not on the phone, so it wasn't a big deal. He really didn't need permission to enter the office anymore, but he would do it out of respect. Messages for him were left in a box in the office these days.
Pete closed the door a little harder than necessary. MacDonald looked up from his paperwork; it wasn't like Pete to not acknowledge whoever was in the office. Pete read a message, crumpled it up and threw it at the garbage can. He missed. Mac watched as Pete picked up the crumpled message and slammed it into the can before he kicked the can into the corner. Pete ran a bandaged hand through his hair; a move Mac knew as one of the signs of frustration. This was not good.
"Pete, do you have a minute?" It wouldn't do anyone any good if Pete didn't calm down. The redhead was known for keeping his emotions in check; even during the most dangerous situations, but not this afternoon. At least he wasn't taking it out on anything but a trash can.
"Not really Mac. Can it wait?" Pete wasn't ready to share with anyone the emotions the message had caused. Showing frustration in front of Mac was different than doing it out on the street or in front of officers he outranked. Outside of this office, he would behave.
"Have a seat, my friend." He flashed Pete a smile. "You seem a little out of sorts." Pete grabbed one of the plastic chairs in the office, turned it backwards and sat down in front of the desk.
"Did your keen senses or your years of police experience tell you that?" His tone of voice reflected the teasing of one old friend to another.
"No, the dent in the trash can did." Mac was chuckling as he continued, "Let me guess, is it something to do with Reed?" The Sergeant wasn't psychic; he could see Jim trying to both hide and watch them.
Pete sighed and nodded. If Mac wanted more than that, he was going to work for it. Pete was the most aptly named friend Mac had. Still he trudged on.
"Is that how you hurt your hand?" He was hoping to catch Pete off-guard with that question. Despite the gauze bandage wrapped on his left hand Pete said that his hand was fine.
"Yeah, you just like the look of gauze and tape on your hand. I can put you on the desk…." Mac was grinning; it was an empty threat and they both knew it. Pete thought he expended all his anger before he came in, but Jim and that message revived it.
"That stupid, huge, dead Sycamore tree." Pete hadn't said much, but enough to tell Mac what he was mad about. The trouble this morning was the part of his frustrations that Pete didn't mind talking to Mac about. By the end of the tale, but Mac and Pete were laughing. MacDonald was of the opinion that if all that happened was Pete hurting his hand, they got off easy. After Jim dragged Pete into helping him put up a new TV antenna Jim was on crutches for two weeks and Pete had four stitches in his scalp.
"Why do you help him? Never mind, I know the answer." Mac paused to remember. "How many home projects did I rope you into when we were riding together?"
"Way too many, I need to start asking for more than dinner in return for my labors." Pete would never admit it, but Mac and Jim had given him the same thing in return; a brother, a family. If Jim was his "younger" brother, Mac was his "older" one.
"What are you going to do about him?" With a nod of his head, Mac let Pete know that Jim was spying on them. Pete turned and nodded to Jim; it was enough for Reed to know that he wasn't still mad at him. Then, Mac went in for the kill.
"I'm not only asking about tonight. You know it's time." Pete knew this was coming, but he was counting on Captain Moore's current vacation to delay the matter. He didn't want to think about it, yet.
"Is it Mac?" Pete stood up, putting some distance between the two men. "According to whose timetable? Mine, yours, Val's?" Pete walked to the door and stood there looking out into the hallway. Walters and Fraser were walking down the hall. The kid seemed to be getting along with his new training officer. Pete would have to check in with them, but he had time yet. Mostly, Pete was staring at nothing.
"It's not easy, is it? It's a lot to leave behind." Mac was watching his friend closely. Taking the Sergeant's exam was about much more than breaking up his partnership with Jim. It meant distancing himself from the other men. He would have to give up more than being CTO and Senior Lead; sergeants don't go out to Leroy's for a few beers, they don't belong to the division bowling league….
"You're top of the hill here; it's comfortable." Pete's head snapped to the side, green eyes darkening as he glared at MacDonald.
"It's not that and you know it Mac. How many times did you and I talk about it before you took the promotion?" Even though Mac was ready to quit routine patrol, he agonized over the decision. He finally decided that the promotion would help him better provide for his family. "I don't have a wife and kids to worry about. There's no one depending on me." Mac wondered if Pete really believed that.
"This Division needs at least one new Field Sergeant and one watch commander. So far, no one has signed up to take the exam. They are waiting to see what you are going to do." Pete paced back and forth in front of the desk.
"It shouldn't matter what I do or don't do. If they want to be a sergeant, I'm not going to stop them." Pete hadn't stopped pacing but he did run a hand through his hair again.
"Which guys in this division do you think will take a promotion over you? Do you realize how impossible a situation that would put them in?" Mac paused to let that sink in. "I know that you are only doing your job, but you do it too well. The men follow you without question. By the time we get a supervisor to a scene; everything is set up and we end up being a taxicab for the tear gas."
"Have I ever…" Pete had moved over by the desk, putting both hands on top.
"No" Mac cut Pete off. "You always step back to let the supervisor run things. In doing that, you are essentially signaling to the others to follow the supervisor's orders."
"Oh no, you are not laying that on me. If there is a problem it is the fault of the Sergeant who can't command respect." Pete knew there might be a problem if someone was promoted over him, but he was certain that wouldn't be promoted this time around.
"The point is that we are wasting a supervisor's time by sending one to a scene that you have already responded to. " The Captain had spoken to MacDonald about pushing Pete towards taking the exam. It wasn't the first time that there was a possibility of having a sergeant who was not as capable as the Senior Lead. Officer's become sergeants primarily by passing an exam; Senior Leads earn their rank by experience and ability. No one questions if they earned their stripes.
"And that's my problem? How?" Pete huffed, before walking towards the door. "I have some work to do before roll call. If there's nothing else you want..."
"You can go, but know this, my friend. You are already a sergeant, in every way but rank. Consider that."
Pete didn't want to think about any of it. Jim was sitting at the report desk when Pete walked past him. He stopped and turned when Jim failed to take up his usual place at his side.
"Are you glued to that chair? I need to find Walters and Fraser before roll call." A few seconds was all it took for Jim to be at his side. "I'll pay for half the cost of hiring someone else to take down that tree." No way was Pete going to get back up on that ladder. Jim was getting off easy, and he knew it.
They followed the sound of laughter and found Fraser and Walters in the breakroom. Walters invited them to sit at their table. Pete took the seat opposite Fraser while Jim, who lost the coin toss, got them both a mug of coffee. All three laughed when Jim gave Pete the coffee; he was muttering something about needing to check Pete's coin out.
"When was the last time you won the coin toss?" Walters asked. If he didn't know better, he would wonder if Pete was using a rigged coin. Pete thanked Jim, but ignored the muttering about his coin.
"Never, he cheats." Jim had yet to sit down. Fraser had been trying to blend into the background, but he did look at Pete then. He didn't think Malloy cheated. How could someone cheat on a coin toss?
"Can I help it if you have no psychic ability?" Pete was joking, but there was a warning in the look he gave his partner; don't joke about him cheating around a rookie. Pete had met with Walters yesterday to discuss Fraser's progress. During their meeting, Walters had expressed some concerns about the young officer, but he thought they would work out with a little more training.
"You've been working with Walters for four weeks now. I've heard what he had to say about you, but what do you think about working with him?" Pete sipped his coffee, giving Fraser time to decide on his response. As Jim took a seat at the table, he lightly brushed his hand on Pete's shoulder. It was a signal that Reed understood the warning.
"He's not as fun as Wells was, especially when he yells, but I'm learning so much more than I did with Ed." He stopped talking; hoping that Pete would be satisfied with that answer, but Malloy kept looking at him. If his intent was to unnerve Fraser, he was doing a great job at it. The silence went on until Fraser added one more comment. "I feel safer with him, Sir."
"I'm glad it's working out. Walters tells me that you are quick to learn and that you are losing any bad habits you had picked up. He says that you have it in you to be a Pro. Keep up the good work." Fraser was beaming. After everything that happened, Pete knew that what Fraser needed most was encouragement so that is what he got. Pete was very good at his job.
"We better get going or we'll all be late for roll call." Before leaving, he downed his coffee and put the mug in the sink. Jim kept pace on Pete's right during the walk to roll call and Malloy couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before he lost his "back-up".