He didn't really have a desk. It was a sort-of desk. Papers and other random crap strewn about gave it the impression that someone had taken the contents of a cubicle and shaken them up, then dropped them upside-down on the wooden contraption, thusly forming Bishop's workstation. On top of them was a bag, and in that bag was a Chucky Doll.
He smirked and waited for Drew so that he could show him his new toy.
"Silvera is going to kill me," he'd said on the phone. "But you need to see it."
Drew had no idea what sort of trouble Bishop had planned, but it was bound to be good. When they weren't watching each other's backs and doing hardcore shit, they were causing Hell for each other. Fortunately, it was a lot harder to get a dog into the station than a doll.
Unfortunately, it wasn't easy to get a dentist, or his chair, in either. Even so, Drew and Josh had managed to pull an old one they found in a junkyard in and leave it in the middle of the office space.
That had been pure gold.
Now, he was hoping for more gold, and this time not so much fun for Josh. If he was being set up for his OWN trauma, he'd be pissed. No, he didn't mind the hypocrisy of that. Fortunately, he didn't see anything too suspicious other than a bag on the mess Bishop called a desk, and the bag wasn't moving. That was a good thing.
"So, whatcha got there, genius?" he drawled, looking interested, but ready to laugh at the guy if it wasn't up to par with their dentist chair.
No. The chair had been pure FAIL. Wesley would get him back, though. This was Josh's segment, however, and he would remain silent on the matter of the revenge he was planning on Drew until it was completed. He wouldn't tell Josh, either, because after this, Josh wouldn't be talking to him for at least twenty minutes.
He smirked as Drew came into view, and then ceremoniously whipped the bag away. "It even talks!" he exclaimed, ripping the doll from the box. He yanked on a little string in the back, and the eyes blinked. The strange, demonic/angelic face contorted into a smile. The thing was damn near animatronic - something Disney might have been proud of.
"I wanna be your friend," it said. The voice was normal and sweet, at first - when it uttered the word 'friend', however, it turned into a low guttural growl.
"Isn't it SWEET?" he asked. He held it out for Drew to see.
"Are you kiddin' me?!" Drew yelled, half torn between utter shock and absolute hilarious laughter. He lowered his voice again, and took hold of the doll. "Josh is gonna break your ass, but this is prolly the funniest damn thing I've seen since the chair!"
Yes, Drew knew he had karmic punishment on the way. He thought this was just as funny as the chair, though maybe slightly more because he was closer to Josh, and he liked messing with the guy more. Wes was a close second, though.
"It sounds demonic. Man, if we give him nightmares, he's gonna kill us both. Me, jus' for knowin'," he pointed out. There was no way he wouldn't be able to let on that he knew. This was just too much.
"Yeah, he'd like to break my ass," he snorted, throwing in the obligatory gay joke. "Especially since he's obviously starting to lose women to your goofy ass, now, too." Ahahaha. Take that, chair boy. He let go of the doll so Drew could tinker with it more in-depth, and plopped down on his desk, using a large hand to swat paperwork away. He hated paperwork. He needed to find someone to do it for him.
"The real question, bro-dog, is where are we going to put it? His locker? His truck? But whe-ere?" he sang, sounding like the guy who did the 'Warriors come out and play-ay' thing. He grinned wickedly. "I say we get into his apartment and put the bitch in his bedroom. Hide it under the fucking covers or something."
That would just be asking for some horrible form of retaliation, but it would be so worth it.
What? Goofy ass? And what was this, Wes didn't think that Drew was capable of getting women? Yeah, Wes was the goofy ass. "Listen to you! Josh and I ain't the ones talkin' 'bout breakin' into other guy's bedrooms. You wanna play around under Josh's covers, you go for it. I ain't gettin' involved in that one." Nooooo, no sirree. He didn't want anything to do with Josh's bed, or Josh would be calling him and Wes BOTH homos for the rest of their lives.
It was true, though. That would be insanely hilarious. Too bad they wouldn't be able to see his reaction.
"Naw, we gotta put it somewhere we can see him find it. It ain't no fun if we can't see him shriek like a lil' girl." Yeah, and just for the record, Drew didn't shriek when confronted with dogs. He screamed like a man, full of the terror that came when those horrible, snapping jaws were coming at him. Yep. No shrieking.
He just rolled his eyes when Drew started accusing him of wanting to play around in Josh's covers. He enjoyed how Drew didn't offer any other comments on that girl he'd picked up, though, so he knew that he'd hit a spot. He'd have to keep prying, there.
"I'm not entirely sure where we can put it, then. Not unless you want me to stuff it in his locker, but I feel like it'd be kind of anti-climactic. He'll open it, yell, and be done."
He folded his arms a little, trying to consider what the best approach to it would be. In the meantime... "So how are things with that girl, anyways? I never thought I'd peg you for the type to date a stripper, but... " he trailed off. He didn't know she was just a waitress; all he knew was where she worked, which meant: stripper.
"Yeah, but at least we'd see it. I ain't hidin' around in his room to see him find it there," he asserted, though he hesitated directly after. "There anyplace to sit with a scope or binoculars across from his window?"
So, that was slightly less creepy than hiding in the guy's room. Just what Drew always wanted to be: a Peeping Tom. The reaction would be worth it, though. "I still ain't hidin' it, though."
He was not going into Josh's bedroom. Period. That was going to have to be all Wes, especially if he was going to mess with Drew about Melisande. "'Scuse me, but she ain't a stripper, you ass. She's a waitress, an' if you'd seen the strippers workin' in that place, you wouldn' make fun of that. Pretty sure the one Josh was talkin' to was a stripper. Ask him about her sometime."
Wes thought for a moment. "I can get into his room if we can find a way to distract him. I bet we could mess something up and then leave before he gets back here so that he's got to clean it up. It's shitty, but he's done it to me before, so that will definitely be gratifying. Probably just dump his desk over sideways or something, it ought to take him a good fifteen minutes to try and get it together. That will give us enough time to get there and me to get in and out."
Nobody really knew why Wesley was so good at breaking and entering, but he was, and it had proved useful in the past. They all passed it off as something he'd learned in the Air Force, but then again, nobody ever really bothered him about it because he'd been able to get them directly into the middle of hot zones without much of a sound.
He sat forward a little. "I think we can do this," he said deviously. "There's an old building across from his apartment that we'd be able to get onto, provided I can get in and out without being seen, though." He knew he would; being part animal had its advantages. "I think we can make this happen. By the way, those pictures you sent me were awesome. I might try to set his screensaver to the one right when he woke up if I have time."
Dump his desk sideways? Drew could do better than that, and in fact, he'd been involved when Josh had done it to Wes last. "Jus' help me turn it over, an' I'll handle the res'," he promised. He was going to set the computer up on the underside once it was turned over, and he could upload the picture as the screensaver. That would keep Josh busy for awhile, and they didn't usually hit him so many times in a row, so he wouldn't be expecting the doll at home.
"Man, I ain't even gonna ask how you know there's a buildin' across from his window," he pointed out, not doubting for a second that Wes could get in and out of the man's apartment undetected. For some reason, Wes was just good at those things, and Drew wasn't going to argue it when it helped them out the way it did.
If they could set his screensaver at work AND at home with that picture? Pure gold. Josh just couldn't see the one at home until after the doll, or he'd be tipped off that they'd been there.
"Okay," he agreed to the desk adventure. He figured that Josh would be so busy with that and being mad at Drew, he'd never suspect Wes was already gone to his apartment. "Can you stay here and distract him after he finds it; pretend to help him put it together for a little bit before saying that your girl is calling you to come.. I don't know, help her move something in her apartment. Something. Make something up. That way he won't think I'm off doing something worse."
He smirked. "And I will ask him about the other girl, but he never kisses and tells. He's such a little girl," he snorted. He pulled off of the desk and secured the doll in the bag, before nodding to where Josh's fairly neat arrangement was. "Let's do this," he said, making the click-click noise with his mouth before heading straight for the target.
"And the reason I know is because I've had to take him home before. He's got a habit of being a little bit of a lightweight, if you hadn't noticed. And, since we're snipers, we're supposed to notice shit like that."
Speaking of being snipers and noticing things, Drew took a moment or so while Wes blabbed about kissing and telling to take note of exactly what Josh's desk arrangement looked like before he jumped into the mess as well. He moved everything from the top of it, pulled a roll of packing tape out of his desk (there just in case he needed it for something like, well, this) to tape the drawers shut, and grabbed one end.
"'Course I know, how d'you think I got that picture last night? He passed out in my car," he snorted, finally glancing up. "You ready?"
All he needed was a hand flipping it without breaking anything, and he'd do the rest. Every little thing that had been on the desk before was going to go right back into its place, and then Drew was going to make himself look totally engrossed in something that didn't involve this room, so Josh wouldn't immediately suspect him of anything. He was going to blame Wes, anyway, right up until the doll thing. Then, he'd admit that the desk was mostly his doing, and let Wes take credit for the doll. It made Drew's look pretty sad in comparison, but credit where it's due. Besides, Josh would want to shoot him less after he saw the doll.
Once the desk was flipped, he set to work replacing all of the items and pulling the tape off the drawers. "Now go, I got the res'."
Wes nodded, and grabbed one end of the desk. He knew that he couldn't make it seem too easy, because he himself could have just lifted the desk and, well, thrown it if he'd really wanted to. Being a shapeshifter had some definite perks; however, if he wanted to keep his rouse up, he'd have to act human, and that meant using a fraction of his strength and grunting when he helped pick it up and turn it over.
Once he'd done that, he held the bag with the doll securely, and gave a wicked smirk to Drew. "We're going to go to Hell for this," he said, brows raised. With that, he headed out quickly and quietly to his car. He needed to get to Josh's apartment now if he wanted any of this to work.
Drew was totally oblivious of Wes' unusual strength, since the lion totally held back enough to make the redhead struggle with his end as much as he was going to. They shared the weight, just like he expected, and he set to work re-setting the whole thing as soon as it was upside-down, getting rid of the tape first so that Josh wouldn't know right off the bat how they'd managed to flip it without spilling the drawers. Scotch tape just doesn't work that well.
He grinned back at his comrade-in-trouble, agreeing completely. "We are, an' Josh is gonna be the one to send us off, you watch," he returned, then got to work. He had to be fast so that he could get himself out of dodge before Josh came by. He wanted an alibi for the start of this.
Wes would have as much time to work as Drew could give him, but he was still going to have to haul ass. Drew himself had less to accomplish, considering he wasn't breaking into a SWAT officer's apartment. He finished off the masterpiece that was Josh's desk with uploading the picture from his phone onto Josh's screensaver, and took off for some populated area of the station. Training with some of the detectives sounded good, and taking a shot or two from LeCroix didn't sound near as bad as having Josh know he was responsible before Wes could finish the job.
Wes formulated a plan as soon as he got to Josh's apartment building. The Chucky doll tucked safely in a backpack, Wes ran 'round back of the building. Glancing left and right to ensure that he wasn't about to be waylaid by anyone or anything, he took a few steps back, and made a running jump at the fire escape.
BANG!
He hung there for a second, wincing as he locked the grip of his right hand around the base of the old metal contraption. After what seemed like eternity, he was satisfied nobody had heard him, and hoisted himself up. Honestly, if his friends knew he could do all this, their lives might've been a little easier, but as it stood, Wesley didn't like even admitting he could do it sometimes. It was just necessary right now to be able to get this plan going.
He climbed up until he got to an open window, and pressed his back against the wall to listen for more noise. When he didn't hear anything, he carefully slipped inside the apartment of someone who'd simply fallen asleep in front of their television with their windows open - it was a cool New York summer day oddly enough, so the relief of not having to spend money on the air conditioning might've been enough for this person to leave the windows wide open. Either way, it was Wes' opportunity to take, so he did.
He dashed through their apartment, using every ounce of concentration not to wake them up. It wasn't hard - part of his job description was clearly being able to move with stealth; the fact that he was a lion only helped. The person dosed without a clue as he shut their apartment door silently, and then made his way down the hall in a hurry to where he knew Josh's apartment to be. He'd come in a floor too soon, so he hit the stairs and wasted no time.
Picking the lock to Josh's apartment, though, was going to be difficult. Every time Wes thought he had one, he found that there was another one. Really? There had to have been three of them on the door at least, but he managed to get them all undone without smashing it to smithereens.
Once inside, he dashed straight back to his bedroom and set the doll up for action. As soon as that was done, he busted a move back out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. No reason to get sloppy, now.
The instant he was finished setting Josh's desk up, he was gone, and he went straight down to their training and work-out area. There were other people down there, which wasn't all that surprising, but he was pleased to see that Josh wasn't down there. Yet. He figured the guy wouldn't be too long, which meant that Drew only had a little while to get sweaty and start looking tired, otherwise Josh would know that he hadn't been there long, and pin him for the desk stunt.
He hit the punching bag straight off the bat, not seeing LeCroix anywhere for a decent bout of boxing, and settled into a rougher, faster pace than he usually used.
Wes had better get the job done.
He kept that up, succeeding in his attempts, and finally saw Josh wandering in.
"What's up mothafucka?" Josh asked in his characteristic sassy black woman voice he reserved just for occasions when he was in a good enough mood to use it. He walked casually around the back of the punching bag, and when Drew went to swing, he rushed it, aiming to plow him over with it, a loud laugh escaping his throat. "Ah-HAH!"
"So how'd things go with Melisande? Is she as nice sober as she is when I'm drunk?" he inquired. "I told Wes about her." He wasn't sure if Drew had already seen Wes, but it wouldn't surprise him if he had. "We still on for tomorrow, anyways? Don't want you getting your head all wrapped around your ladyfriend. We still need beer time."
He had no idea.
Drew glanced Josh's way when the man did some funky impersonation of a black woman, the kind of thing that Drew would have gotten his ass kicked for doing by any of the black women he'd known back home, and kept up on the punching bag at a more normal pace. No sense in letting Josh realize that he'd only been there for a little while.
He was completely unprepared for Josh rushing the bag, and it impacted his body with a sharp 'OOF!' out of him before he hit the ground on his ass and bounced like a rock being skipped. Just...less extreme. He shot the other man an irritated look, but ended up breaking that up with a grin and a roll of his eyes. It hadn't really hurt, and once he was over being startled, it wasn't so horrible. Actually, kind of funny. Besides, Josh had his coming.
"You ass. That almos' hurt," he complained, pulling himself up off the floor and halting the bag in its swinging. Ah, again with the questions about Melisande. "She invited me to her place after I called, then beat my ass at Mario Kart an' Super Smash Brothers cause I ain't never touched a Wii before an' I suck at it. Definitely on for beer time tomorrow, don' choo worry 'bout that."
Beer time was 'guy time', even if girls showed up over the course of the night. Wes had been sleeping the night before, which was why they had to actually PLAN it this time, so Wes knew not to go to sleep. What a girl, taking naps like that.
Josh lightly punched the bag with his bare fist while he listened to Drew talk, and then stopped when he took a hold of it. He didn't want to be tempted to start wailing on it again like he had been a few hours prior. Josh didn't have built up anger, but when he saw a punching bag, he was all about beating the crap out of it. It was a man thing.
"Okay, that's funny. You got beat up on the Wii by a girl. She definitely sounds like she's the right one for you," he said with a loud laugh, stepping away from the bag entirely. He reached down and picked up his own personal bag, stuffed full of gym clothes that needed to be washed badly and other various things he'd forgotten to take home. He hated cleaning his locker.
"I gotta run by my desk and pick up some paperwork. I honestly am thinking about putting in a request for a secretary. Wes should, too, with the way his shit is kept. I don't know how he finds anything," he drawled, rolling his eyes. "What time tomorrow? I think I might be cooking some steaks, so if you can manage to bring drinks that don't suck, I can rely on Wes to bring other food; then you can put your alcoholism aside and commence to be our DD. It's sort of funny you get to be the DD when Wes can drink both of us out and still not really appear to lose his coordination. Actually, it's downright bullshit," he muttered.
"Dude, shut up. You're missin' the point, an' that's that I got invited over already. Who cares if I got my ass kicked at a game?" he asked, and that was exactly how he felt about it. His pride had been prepared for the blow, and so he'd taken it without too much pain. He was just pleased to have been invited over.
He collected his own things up while Josh mentioned his plans for the following night, and he shrugged when he was asked about a time. He deliberately didn't make any external reaction about Josh's desk. "I'll be DD. I'm finished tryin' to out-drink that bastard. My las' hangover had me thankin' I was dyin', an' he didn't even have a headache. I can' believe how much he drinks," Drew complained along with Josh, shaking his head. Wes had an unnatural tolerance for alcohol. That, or he was secretly ridding himself of his drinks when they weren't looking, but that would be such a waste.
"I don' care what time. Jus' gimme a call an' I'll be there."
"Alrighty man," he said. He did the little fist-pound thing that he'd been doing with Drew for the last few years, and slung his bag from one shoulder to the other. The contents in it stank so bad that it made his eyes water, which... said a lot about his housekeeping. He was still thinking about the bag of nasty when he spotted his desk - or, actually, the legs of if, which were about level with his legs somewhere, which should really have been on the ground.
STCHUNK.
The bag hit the floor with a noisy, fabric sound.
"What. The. FUCK!" he yelled.
Credit must be given where it's due.
It was due here.
Drew smacked Josh's fist with his own, focusing on his own bag as they walked into the office, and looked up suddenly when he heard his friend's bag drop. He feigned surprise well enough that one had to wonder exactly how many times he'd been in on stunts like this throughout his life (and with the number of older brothers he had, it was quite the number), and he just stood there.
"Oh. Shit."
He didn't yell, but it wasn't his desk. It wasn't his place to yell. It was his place to stand there and look suitably shocked, which he did. Then, he couldn't help himself, and this would have at least been true even if he hadn't known what they were walking in on. It was funny, and he laughed. "Oh, shit! That sucks!"
He was ready to jump out of arm's reach if he had to.
Josh turned and gave Drew a hard shove when he started to laugh. "Whatever, bitch!" he yelled, though he wasn't nearly as pissed off as anyone else would have been. "You probably did this yourself! Oh my GOD, this is going to take fucking foreverrrrr to clean up," he groaned, crouching down to survey the damage.
"How... in the fuck..." he trailed off, staring in amazement at his computer. "I don't even want to know what sort of disorder all my paperwork is in. It probably looks like Wesley's now," he muttered. Speaking of which -- "And where is Wes, anyways Eh? Did he do this? I know you couldn't have flipped this bitch by yourself, not without help, and that motherfucker's the biggest one here. I should kick both of your asses. Pens, and now this?"
He rubbed his face and made an exasperated groaning sound. "I hate you both."
Really, he was flattered that Josh thought he did it himself, but they both knew better. Those desks were heavy, especially when the drawers were full, so there was no way that Drew could have flipped it himself. The memory required to put every article from the top of the desk back on the bottom right where it had been before was all Drew, though. Memory was his thing, and always had been. Photographic, auditory, whatever you wanted to call it, he had it. It was why he was as good with languages as he was, which made him crazy-useful on their team in the sandbox. For as Southern as he sounded usually, he could imitate accents and languages from memory without hesitation, and he remembered dialects like some piano players could learn a song from hearing it once. If he'd ever decided to play an instrument, he probably could have done that as well, but he didn't bother. Language was good enough for him.
That, and pranks like this.
He also had a hell of a way of memorizing maps and layouts, as well as codes, phone numbers and generally any random bit of information that would likely prove useful. Even bleeding and thinking he was going to die, he'd been able to give Josh solid directions whenever they found themselves unsure where to go.
"Come on, I was downstairs, remember?" he asked, still grinning at Josh's reaction. "I didn' do shit, an' how'm I supposed ta know where Wes is? I ain't his mama or anythang!"
He'd almost felt defensive for a second there, and then Josh mentioned the pens. That was going to be good for getting a snicker fit out of Drew for awhile, and he proved it by laughing all over again. That had been the funniest shit he'd seen in a hell of a long time.
"Hate me if ya want, but when you're done, I'll help ya put your desk back," he offered. What were friends for?
"Yeah, you were downstairs, but for how long?" he asked. He stared at him when he offered to put the desk back together, and frowned. He wouldn't offer to put it back together if he'd taken it apart - or at least, Josh didn't think so. He didn't think he and Wesley were up to something quite as big as they were, but he felt like Drew had a hand in something.
"Okay," he said finally. He started moving things out from underneath it, and when that was done, he grunted. "Now we have to pick this bitch up and flip it back over," he said. Boy, if he had been a leopard then, it would have been a piece of cake. Josh and Drew weren't small guys, either, but Wesley could basically pick the desk up with one hand of he really felt the need. Stupid lions.
Once they'd gotten it righted, Josh sluggishly began to put things back into place. "I don't even know why I have a desk, anyways. Not like I'm ever here to enjoy it. I guess this is where they'll put me if I ever get shot or something," he snorted.