( Of course everyone heard because spirit guides were never quiet and completely inconsiderate to the fact captains just want to have uneventful days. )
Simon clamped down on the unlit cigar. He liked to pretend he could smoke it in a flip show of defiance to the 'No Smoking' sign across his desk. He finished his call with the commissioner. For once, it ended congenial and his Major Crimes department's budget wasn't threatened during the phone conference. All parties were happy about the case's progress, the D.A agreed to take the case, and his best team (but you didn't hear that from him) were on their way to pick Bronson up.
So why the hell were there a black jaguar and a wolf staring at him from under the meeting table?
"What are you two doing here?" Simon hissed around his rolled up tobacco. The last time they were here, it was because Sandburg was being held hostage by a paranoid suspect and Jim was hanging out a third story window because the fool thought he could get in from the outside. That was the last time Simon ever did a favor for the A.D.A.
The wolf, with its damn startling blue eyes, raised its disinterested gaze at him and huffed once; just a short puff of breath substituting as a bark. Then, it grinned, sat up, and wagged its elegant tail. It gave another happy bark before tilting its head back and howled.
"Sandburg, knock it off!" Simon hissed, glancing over nervously at his shuttered blinds.
The jaguar lifted a mighty furry black paw, let it hang in the air for a second, and then swiped the back of its companion's silver head. Hard.
The surprised half yelp, half squeak rose Simon to his feet. His cigar hung off his lower lip. "Jim!"
Bored, the jaguar looked at him, its paw squashing down on the hapless canine. The pointy furry ears flattened and the wolf looked up pitifully at Simon. It whined "You see that?" to Simon before it slouched lower under the feline's paw. The cat simply rolled its eyes.
Simon blinked. The jungle cat looked about ready to yawn at him. "What the hell's matter with you?" Great, it must mean those two yahoos were arguing out there somewhere; just what he needed. Their shouting matches always meant his mediating presence; whether they wanted it or not.
"Look," Simon began, showing his hands towards the pair. "Why don't you just let Sandburg be? Whatever it is…" Maybe he could fix this now. Hey, worked for Androcles. If he could just get that wolf out from under its paw…
The low rumble from the cat's throat was equivalent to a dismissal. Simon backed a step. His chair rolled back behind him. Spirit animals don't bite, right?
The wolf shoved its muzzle under the jaguar's chin, snuffed once, then wiggled out from the paw. "Free!" it barked. It gave a full body shiver (Simon hoped spirit animals don't shed or get spirit fleas for that matter) and circled the large cat. Sandburg's wolf stopped, cocked its head and considered the large sleek cat. Then, without warning, it bit down on the cat's tail.
"Sandburg!" Simon swatted a hand towards the two as the jaguar yowled. It sprang up on all fours and zipped towards the wolf with a snarl. Sandburg's spirit guide yipped what could only be "Oh shit!" in canine-speak, and darted under the meeting table.
Chairs flew to the side as the wolf avoided another paw by barreling into the furniture.
"What the hell's wrong with you two!" Simon exploded. He hopped back a step to avoid a giant ball of silver fur that whizzed between his legs like a lightning bolt. He flailed as the jaguar knocked into his legs and he fell into his chair. The jaguar skidded on the linoleum as it made a sharp turn, pounced the wolf, and the two went tumbling into his bookcase with an impressive crash and a couple of startled yips.
The padded leather cushion deflated with a loud whoosh when Simon stumbled back. Simon stared blankly at nothing in particular, his arms hung out of the chair. He really didn't want to move. It was such a nice day before.
Simon's nostrils flared as he could hear the two swatting paws at each other. There should be a laugh track somewhere.
"Will you two knock it off?" Simon bellowed from his seat.
The two beasts froze when Simon's intercom buzzed.
"Captain?" Rhonda could be seen standing up from her chair outside. She craned her neck to try to peer between the gaps of the blinds.
"What is it, Rhonda?" Simon mumbled. He kept his eyes on the two furry culprits. Sandburg's spirit guide sat on its haunches, head stooped low as if chastised.
"Uh…is everything okay in there? We…um…heard shouting…well…everything alright?"
Of course everyone heard because spirit guides were never quiet and completely inconsiderate to the fact captains just want to have uneventful days. Simon glowered at the two. "Spayed and neutered," he mouthed. The wolf's eyes crossed. Out loud, he steadied his voice.
"Everything's fine." Simon coughed.
"It was a rat," Simon returned flatly.
Simon narrowed his eyes at the wolf and jaguar. The cat had its paws on the wolf's head again, squashing the poor canine belly down to the floor. The wolf, barely discernible under paws the size of its head, gave a whine and a growled warning to the cat. Jim's spirit animal did not look impressed. Its tail flicked and nothing more.
"Actually," Simon amended as he jabbed a finger to an empty spot in front of him. It was empty of chairs thanks to them. "It was two rats." He jabbed his finger at the spot again. "Two fat rats." Did Jim's spirit animal just growled at him?
"Oh." It was guaranteed Ronda was not coming in here now. Simon could see her sit back down again hastily. "Do you want me to call Pest Control?"
"More like Animal Control," Simon muttered.
Sandburg's wolf yipped. Ellison's cat snarled when the wolf jumped it. More books fell.
Some days, it's like working with children.
Author's Note: I don't think it counts as a conversation per se, but there was talking...lol