Did You Really Think It Was Because of His Hair?

Disclaimers: I disclaim any responsibility for this. It's Speranza's fault. Unbeta'd, my first ever fanfic from The Shield, and if you think that doesn't make me crazy.... If you want to read more of this kind of nonsense, try here.

by shell

copyright 2003

Shane pulled Vic into Striketeam headquarters. "Listen, man, I can't take it anymore."

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'what'? We killed a cop!"

"No, we didn't."

"Don't give me that bullshit about Twotone—"

"No, dickhead, I mean—well, I guess technically he was a cop, but he wasn't human. We had to take him out."

"Wasn't human—is this some sort of a joke? You haven't—jesus, Vic, you haven't been checking out that crank we picked up the other night, have you?"

"Of course not, idiot. I'm telling you, Terry isn't human. He's an elf."

"An elf."

"That's right."

"Right, Terry was an elf, and I suppose Aceveda's a vampire, and of course Dutch must be an alien."

"No, dipshit, that's Lemonhead's gig. Although you might be right about Aceveda—nah, he's out in the sun all the time." Vic ran his hand over the back of his head. "The point is, Terry's an elf, and as such he's not actually dead. Lemonhead's got a sensor that's picked him up, and Ronnie's gotten a special strike team of Uruk-Hai put together. We're heading to the Hollow Hills, and we're going to take him down, for good this time."

"And what's my role in this grand adventure?" Shane asked sarcastically.

"Ronnie and I are going, and you and Lemonhead are holding down the fort. Aceveda thinks we're taking some time to look for Corrine and the kids, so you two just have to keep it together while we're gone—no strippers this time, you hear me?"

"She was a dancer, Vic."

"Yeah, right. Listen, I've got to go. I'll keep you up to speed."

"Sure, sure, thanks." Shane turned back to his solitaire game. Once the door closed, he spoke up to the empty room. "Okay, where's the camera? Or did you just get it on tape? Whose idea was it, anyway?"

No answer.

"Fine, I can wait."

A minute later, Lemonhead walked in. "You talk to Vic?"

"Yeah, I talked to Vic."

"Cool. I am so fucking hot in this thing. Let me just lock the door—great. Time to get comfortable."

Shane stared as his friend and partner turned and stripped out of his skin like it was a jumpsuit, revealing something that resembled a stick figure crowned by a small, tart, citrus fruit.

"Shane? Shane? Shit, man, I thought you said you talked to Vic!"

Shane, having fainted, made no response.

"Shit, I guess I'd better reconsider telling Tigre," Lemonhead muttered.

THE END

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