Regulations--Homicide: Life On the Streets
"Baylisson!"
Detective Jim Baylisson, Homicide, winced, and quickly clicked the 'boss alarm' button on his computer screen. Now anyone who looked over his shoulder would see an itemized expense report instead of 'Hot and Happenin' Hunks'. He looked up to find Blairinello, the Homicide department's Jewish/Italian captain standing in his office doorway, glaring. "Yes, Chief?"
Blairinello jerked his head back toward his office, auburn curls flying, and said, "My office. Now!" Then he turned and stalked back inside.
Jim sighed and uncoiled his long, lean body from his chair. "What now?" he mumbled, as he walked back to the office. Surely no one else had complained again about him meditating at his desk during his lunch hour? They'd checked regulations, and religious observances were allowed, as long as they weren't 'intrusive'. Jim was always very careful to keep his chanting to a decent level.
Inside the office, Blairinello, sitting at his desk, motioned for him to shut the door. Jim did, then took a seat in front of the desk.
Blairinello got right to the point. "I hear that you have a web page."
Baylisson knew that he shouldn't blush, but he did anyway. "Lots of officers have web pages, Chief. Anyway, I don't have my name on my page, so how could anyone know..."
"How many people would have web pages about Zen and bi-sexuality in the life of a Cascade Homicide cop? Sort of narrows it down, Baylisson."
Jim felt defensive. "I don't use a single dirty word or naughty picture on that page."
"I checked your counter. You might get more hits if you did."
Jim folded his arms defiantly. "I checked regulations before I uploaded it. There is nothing unacceptable on that page."
"Did you bother to check where your advertising banners led?"
"Um... no."
Blair crooked a finger at Baylisson, and Jim came around the desk to stand behind his captain. Boy, his hair smells good.
Jim's web page was on the monitor. Blairinello clicked the advertising banner. A new screen popped up. It was titled 'Cop Cuties'. Blairinello tapped one picture. "Look familiar?"
Jim looked, then gasped. "That's my head, but it's not my body."
"I know."
Jim was touched by this show of faith, but asked curiously, "How do you know?"
"We share a men's room, Baylisson. I've seen your equipment, and he's centimeters to your inches, if you know what I mean."
"You can't blame this on me. I didn't know anything about it. I'll sue."
Blairinello clicked again, and a screen titled 'Sexy Supervisors' came up. He indicated another picture. "Perhaps you could recommend a lawyer to help me with that."
Jim looked, then looked closer. "That's not you, either."
"How can you tell?"
"Same way you could."
"Ha! So you have looked!" Jim winced, and Blairinello shut down the program. "Baylisson, I'm going to have to transfer you to the Major Crimes division."
"Wait a minute, Chief! That's not fair! It's against regulations to make a punishment transfer like that."
"It isn't a punishment transfer, Baylisson." Blairinello stood up to Jim, glaring up at him. "And don't tell me about regulations. I'm making this transfer because of regulations."
"What regulation?"
"The one that says I can't date an immediate subordinate." Blairinello stood on tip-toe, grabbed Baylisson's ears, and dragged him down for a scorching kiss. When he pulled away, he said, "You taste good. Maybe there is something to that vegetarian diet." He swatted a stunned Jim on the butt and pushed him toward the door, then sat back down. He reached down and squeezed the bulge in his fly and murmured, "Ah, yes. Life is indeed hard on the streets."
The End
