I've never written a one-shot before, so I decided to try my hand in them with this one. Maybe more to follow depending on the reviews I get... I might try a PJO one right after this, so if you like to think of yourself as a demigod, stay tuned!
"Michael, why are we doing this again?" Linc's been complaining for the past half hour, and Michael's sick of it. And if he's honest with himself, LJ's pretty sick of it too. "Dad, for the last time, we're just getting out to enjoy the scenery," LJ explains for the seemingly ninetieth time. Linc rolls his eyes as he reluctantly pedals his bike forward. "I know, but still, it's boring. Why didn't Mike have to come?" Michael is fed up with his brother; he's acting like Mike would have. Actually, on second thought, he's worse than Mike. Mike wouldn't have complained if someone paid him to. Linc does it without any coaxing or asking. "Linc, he's seven. He can't bike a forty mile round trip." Today, they decided to take the bike trail near their house in New York, and their destination is a small town that they can hardly remember the name of. It was LJ's idea of a 'Welcome Home' gift for Michael, since he's only been back in the States for two weeks after Yemen.
LJ figured biking couldn't trigger anything, and besides, what's better than a scenic bike trail with your brother and nephew? "And, dad," LJ tries to reason, "What's better than a scenic biking trail with your brother and son?" Linc turns around from his bike and looks at LJ. "A football game with your brother and son. A drink with your brother and son. Anything else with your brother and son," Linc replies, slightly frustrated. "Okay, whatever. But this is still boring," Linc complains for the umpteenth time.
"Dad! Talk about something else. Anything else other than you complaining." Linc gives him a look that says, Harsh much? LJ rolls his eyes at his dad's ignorance. "Dad, I took a day off work for this. And if this keeps going as-is, I'd almost rather be at work."
"Perfect topic! How's work, LJ?" Michael escapes. He shoots Linc a glare that says, "Complain again and I'll hit you."
"Well, I'm taking a rough case right now, kinda high profile too. A family got into a car accident and lost their kids, 7 and 3 year olds, and they're blaming the semi that's at fault, which was speeding by about 15 miles per hour. The semi belonged to Dunder Mifflin, and it was heavily insured against accidents like that. The family's suing Dunder Mifflin for five million dollars, two in compensatory, three in punitive. The witnesses can back up that the semi was going way too fast, so it looks like we have a good chance to win," LJ explains, still pedaling. "You said a lot of words that don't make any sense to me, but whatever you said, good job, I'm proud of you," Linc says, bored and biting back more complaints.
"Wow, LJ. That's a big case. Why so much in punitive? Sometimes in the bigger cases, the punitive is less than actual damages," Michael asks, and he's right, which ticks Linc off even more. The lid is about to blow off the pot for Linc.
"That's what I thought too, yada yada yada whatevs," Linc says, just trying to be a pain at this point. Evidently, he's bored, tired, and a bit hangry, if Michael says so himself. "Dad, shut up," LJ chides, already sick of his dad's whining.
In about an hour and forty-five minutes, the crew had stopped for lunch in a part in a nameless town of about 350 people. "Really, PB and J? Michael, I thought you were Mr. Let's-cook-a-filet-mignon-for-a-picnic-because-I'm-so-good-at-cooking," Linc complains. "And blueberries? Blech." Michael looks at him and laughs in his face. "Shut up, or I'll do what I did to you when we were kids," Michael jokes. Linc looks like he's trying to remember, but he can't and shrugs it off like it's no big deal. "Jeez, why is everybody telling me to shut up today?" Linc is being ridiculous, and LJ and Michael are pretty sure he knows it, too. "Maybe try it and find out," LJ fires back, going for the uppercut. "Wow, it just got ten degrees colder right here," Michael jokes, but sees the hard glare in Linc's eyes and his untouched PBJ and blueberries. "Linc... okay, you've had your chance," Michael says, grabbing the sandwich from in front of Linc.
Linc tries to grab it back from him, but Michael's faster and yanks it up high. "Mmm, quality PB and J. You're missing out," Michael taunts, taking a bite of Linc's sandwich. "Fine. I'll eat it," Linc surrenders. But Michael isn't ready to give up the game, not just yet. "Fine," he says, pretending to hand Linc's sandwich back when he snatches it back out of his hand and licks the entire top piece of bread. "Man, white bread is better than the hard-as-a-rock crap in South America," Michael says, savoring the taste of Linc's bread. That puts a damper on the mood, so Michael tosses Linc's sandwich back to him, and, since Linc didn't catch it, peanut butter and jelly end up splattered on his shirt. "Fantastic," Linc says bitterly.
LJ and Michael know that the bike trip is
to be even less pleasant than they thought.