The Unexpected Partnership of Crockett and Tubbs: Shaky beginnings

The Unexpected

The surprising twist of events left Crockett wracking his brain. If the person he agreed to work with temporarily wasn't Detective Raphael Tubbs on assignment all the way from New York, who the hell has he been chumming up to? This thought alone did not sit well. Could he be dealing with a dangerous cop impersonator? Was he working for Calderone? Or worse, was he connected to this case on another level? How had he been duped into buying the other's lies? Sonny made a living by determining truths from fictions, so why was this one different? The dirty-blond haired man fell asleep to the sound of the waves crashing against his beloved boat called the St. Vitus Dance.

The next morning................

Footsteps swiftly swept across the deck of the boat. "Hey, Crockett! Rise and shine buddy-boy," came the voice that Sonny had been half dreading. It had an almost strangely chipper tone. Too chipper for a killer's-right? Sonny thought to himself as he fumbled for clothes.

A loud hiss halted the other's progress. The darker-skinned officer jumps back ever so slightly as a series of razor-sharp teeth attached to an unsettling green snout makes itself known.

"Crockett! Oh Elvis......" the words escape Tubbs's lips in a hurry. "Hey......hey..... easy, man," Tubbs gruffly grumbled, extending a sheepish and extremely fearful hand towards Sonny's pet alligator, as if to prove the non-threatening nature of the visit. Tubbs really didn't feel like being devoured today.... or anytime in the near future. Elvis had a way of making the New Yorker pretty nervous.

"Crockett? You tell this lap dog of yours that if he makes any false moves I'm gonna make a suitcase out of him...." the other officer remarked, only half seriously.

Crockett fumbled for a weapon, things spilling noisily in every which direction as he found his fingers clasping around a flare gun. On such short notice Sonny couldn't find the one tucked safely away in the holster he had shed somewhere the night before. It was probably buried somewhere in the pile of clothes that remained crumpled upon the floor of the boat.

"Crockett?" Again Tubbs called, this time more worriedly. The officer's Armed Burglary Division instincts started to take over when a bit of a scuffle resounded from below deck. Tubbs cautiously moved towards the entrance steps. Coffee-bean and copper shaded eyes widened with concern as the officer peered into the semi-darkened quarters below. "Crock...." was all Tubbs had time to get out of the mouth before a series of large fingers coil into the shirt right around the collarbone.

Startled brown eyes fixate upon the wild turquoise-eyed Vice Detective. A furious heat radiated from Crockett's skin as if he were a well stoked-furnace in the dead of a New York winter. The dangerous scowl that appeared upon his face was enough to make the younger officer shiver in fear. Before Tubbs can comprehend what is happening, her back hit one of the sidewalls with a thunderous thump. One unforgiving hand pinned her to the wall, Sonny's fingers lingering dangerously close to the binding, which allowed Raquel to masquerade as her brother Raphael. Her gaze lowered anxiously and frantically to Crockett's other hand as he cocked a weapon she wasn't quite familiar with. She can't help but swallow sharply. What was all of this about? Things had been going well between them hadn't they? As hard as she might, she can't get the breath of air to escape her parted lips. Fear coiled through every vein as Sonny began to speak. The angry words pour over her in a rapid succession. 

"This here, is a flare-gun and if you don't want lit-up like Cape Canaveral, you'd better start talking, pal!" Crockett's words are as sharp as fangs as they pierce the air in the cruelest of ways. He wants his threats to be taken seriously and what better way than to put a time limit on the ultimatum. "You've got exactly ten seconds to start talking...."