The Sergeant Thing: Chapter 1

An Adam-12 fan fiction story: A while back, I watched the whole series from the 1960’s-70’s. Great fun! Writing this story was an exercise in everything but characterization, since those were already given. A new chapter will come out every Tuesday. I hope you enjoy!

“What’s up, Mac?” Malloy stepped into the Watch Commander’s office and let the door swing shut behind him.

Sergeant William “Mac” MacDonald

Mac looked up from skimming a report and gestured to the seat across from him. “Sit down, Pete.” Malloy took the chair, and Mac set his papers aside. “You may have noticed we’re stretched thin lately…” His voice trailed off, and he started again. “I guess there’s no easy way to ask this.” He squinted. “Do you think Reed could handle a beat?”

Malloy blinked. “Without me?”

Mac nodded, and his strange, blue eyes bored into the other officer’s.

Malloy sat back in his chair. His eyes caught movement through the glass wall as his partner pushed through the back door burdened with equipment for two.

Malloy knew he shouldn’t be surprised. Nothing lasts forever, no matter how good it is. He looked back at Mac. “You know I’d be the last person to want to change partners.” He smiled a little. “But Jim could handle a beat without anyone riding shotgun, and even more with another partner. And he’d be a great instructor for any probationers you want broken in. I’m actually surprised you haven’t switched us up before now.”

“Well,” said Mac, “there’ve been a couple of issues we’ve had to consider.” He got up and came around the desk. He leaned back against it, crossed his arms, and glared at Malloy. “One of which is what we discussed last night.”

Malloy pushed back against the chair, then made himself relax. “You mean the sergeant thing?”

“Yeah.” Mac snorted. “The ‘sergeant thing’.” He stood up and paced away.

Malloy followed him with his eyes. The Watch Commander stopped and stood facing away from the door. Finally he turned to Malloy with a frown.

“When I said we’re stretched thin, I meant sergeants, too. And I was serious in what I said last night. You would make a fine sergeant; we need one like you.” Mac shook his head and looked the junior officer up and down. “But what did you do, instead of considering it? You blew it off, like a prom invitation from an ugly girl.”

Malloy winced at the comparison, but he couldn’t deny it.

Mac began pacing. “How does that look to the younger officers who were there? Reed and Brinkman and Jameson? It looks like I offered you a promotion to station garbage-collector!” He stopped and looked down. He placed his hands on his hips and breathed slowly.

Malloy recovered from the outburst first and frowned. “Mac, you know I never meant it like that.”

Mac answered quietly. “You can bet that’s how it sounded to those others.” He looked up again. “So not only are you refusing to consider your duty to the force, you’re also giving a bad example to your fellow officers.”

Malloy stood up. “What can I say besides that’s not how I meant it?”

“There’s one sure way to prove to us all that you don’t think that way about your duty.” Mac’s face was hard.

Malloy’s eyes widened. He took a breath to protest, but the phone clattered on the desk.

Mac rolled his eyes, but he took three swift steps around the desk to answer the call. “MacDonald.” He listened for a few moments then raised an eyebrow at Malloy. He crooked his right thumb toward the door. Over the edge of the phone, he mouthed. “Hit the streets!”

Malloy nodded, but he couldn’t manage a smile. “Yes, sir!” he muttered.

~ * ~

The darkened parking lot was almost empty of black-and-whites; everyone else had already gone on patrol. Reed leaned against the car with his elbows on the top. He stared at a paper, which was illuminated by the spotlights from the station roof.

He looked around when Malloy stepped away from the windows. His smile disappeared and his brows drew together. “Hey, Pete. You feeling okay?”

Malloy sighed. “No, I feel rotten. ” He walked around the hood and opened the driver-side door. His baton was there in its holster. “Did you get the helmets?”

Reed’s mouth twitched. “In the trunk.”

“And the hot sheet?”

The younger man laughed. “Yeah.” He waved the sheet he’d been studying. “I got the helmets and the briefcases and the hot sheet and the shotgun. Our hats are in the car and our guns are at our sides.”

Malloy nodded and started to get in, but Reed stopped him.

“You know, Pete, if whatever you’ve got makes you think I need reminding on the basics, I don’t want to breathe your air all watch…” Then his face really brightened. “Or maybe I should drive.”

Malloy smirked and shook his head. Reed’s half-serious badgering was a constant joke between them, but he couldn’t force out a laugh. “Just get in the car.”

Reed glanced at him a couple of times as they backed up and rolled out of the parking lot into the midnight streets. But all he did was pick up the radio, press the button, and speak slowly. “One-Adam-Twelve morning watch clear.”

“Roger,” the radio replied. “One-Adam-Twelve clear.”

Copyright © Inkant

3 responses to “The Sergeant Thing: Chapter 1”

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