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Barney Miller - Boston Celtics

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Barney Miller/Boston Celtics
Character: Jules McIntyre (Faye Grant)

I was just transferred to the 12th, and I knew it by reputation only. I had the morning shift, so I got in at 9am. I go inside, and there’s a guy next to the door, filing things. He was about 6’, kinda skinny w/blond hair, and blue eyes and glasses. He was dressed like David Addison. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“Uh, I’m looking for Captain Miller,” I said.

“He’s in his office.” He pointed to the door on the opposite end of the room.

“Thank you. Oh, by the way, I’m Sgt. McIntyre.” I extended a hand.

“Sgt. Arthur Detrich,” he said. “I didn’t catch your first name.”

“I didn’t give it. Jules. Jules K. McIntyre.”

“Sorry to pry, but what’s the K for?”

“Kevign with a g.” I turned to go to Cpt. Miller’s office. I knocked on the door.

“Yeah?” a voice from inside said.

I went in. “Cpt. Miller? I’m Sgt. McIntyre from the 33rd.”

“Oh, yes.” He stood up and shook my hand. “We’ve been expecting you. Uh, I’d like you to meet Sgt. Wojciehowicz.” He directed my attention to a man behind me.

Apparently he’d been sitting on the sofa and I missed him. Wojciehowicz was almost 6’ tall w/brown hair and eyes, and he looked like a defensive end with the LA Raiders. “Good morning” I said.

He held out a hand. “Uh, Hi. Call me Wojo. It’s easier.”

“Certainly is,” I said. “You can call me Jules.”

“Are Chano and Harris back yet?” Cpt. Asked.

“There’s only Detrich out there, Captain.” I said.

“Oh, then you’ll meet them later. Oh, Wojo can you have Leavitt bring up a desk for Jules?”

“Sure Barn.” And he left.

A phone rang. “Got it.” I heard Detrich say. “Captain. Robbery in progress at the liquor store in back.”

“Uh, take Jules,” Captain Miller said. “Good luck, kid.”

I smiled and left w/Detrich.

 

We jogged to the liquor store in the parking lot. Detrich knew about the back entrance so he went in back while I took cover in front. As I waited for a signal from Detrich, I popped a wad of gum in my mouth. I heard a shot. I looked over the wall. I saw Detrich clutching his arm, and I noticed his gun was on the floor. One guy was gona take a shot at him, so I shot him first. His buddy turned to shoot, but a bottle flew off the shelf and hit the guy in the head, and he passed out.

I rushed inside and right to Detrich. “Hurt?” I asked.

“Doesn’t tickle. Did you see that bottle?” he asked.

“Yeah.” I said drably. “Take off your jacket.” He did. I looked at the wound. Superficial. I ripped his sleve off the shirt.

“Hey, hey, hey –“ he started.

“What?”

“Careful.”

“Sorry.” I tied the sleve around the wound. “Better?”

“No.”

“You’re just a big baby, Detrich. It’s only a scratch.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve been on the force 8 years and I average some sort of work related injury every 1 ½ months. I’ve got more scars on my body than a dog has fleas.”

“You win. But what about the bottle?”

“What about it?

“I’m not one to believe in psychic phenomena, but that was weird.”

“No it wasn’t. I’ve seen it happen before.” I grabbed the phone off the hook and called the paramedics.

When I hung up, Detrich goes, “What do you mean you’ve seen it before?”

I shrugged and said, “It’s part of my everyday life.”

“What?”

“Hold out your hand.” He did. As he did, the gun that was on the floor floated up to his hand. He looked at the gun, then at me.

“You’re telekenetic?” I nodded. “Are you kidding?”

“No. My parents were part of an experiment. My dad can make you do whatever he wants you to, my mom’s pretty much the same, and my brother is pyrokenetic.”

“Sounds like a wonderful family.”

“We love each other. Kevin always helped at the family B-B-Q.”

“Kevin?” he asked. “I assume he’s your brother.”

“Yeah. How’s the arm doin’?”

“Okay, I supose.” I noticed that the bandage was becoming bloodsoalked, so I took of the bandana I was using as a belt and tied it around his arm. I put the bloody sleve in the garbage. “Now your jeans are gona fall down,” he said.

“No they won’t.” I took off his tie and put it through the loops and tied it. “Told ya they wouldn’t.” He just laughed.

 

When we got back to the precinct, Captain Miller rushed out of his office. “Detrich, are you okay?” he asked.

“Thanx to the Angel of Mercy we have, yes.”

I blushed. “He’s a big baby, Captain. He doesn’t know what REAL pain is.”

“Are you referring to when Kevin dropped the weight on your foot?” A voice from behind me said.

I turned to see who it was. “Larry!” I said. “How are you? We hugged. (He’s 6’9” and I’m 5’6”. Kinda awkward.) I glanced over at Wojo. His jaw was between his knees. “What ARE you doing here?” I asked.

“We play the Knicks tomorrow,” he said.

“I thought that was in Boston.”

“No. Here.”

“Where’s Kevin?” I asked hastily.

“At the motel. He’ll be by later. Oh, hey, I almost forgot, he wanted me to give you these.” He gave me an envelope w/4 bench tickets and lockerroom passes in it.

“Thank him for me, will ya?” I asked.

“Sure will. I better let you get back to your work.”

“Okay. Bye, Larry.”

He leaned down to kiss me. “Bye, Jules.” And he left.

As soon as he did, Wojo goes, “Larry Bird? You KNOW Larry Bird?” I nodded. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it.”

“Kevin?” he asked. “Were you referring to Kevin McHale?”

“Yeah.”

“You know Kevin McHale too?”

“Well, why shouldn’t I? He’s my brother.”

“Kevin McHale is your brother?”

“Is there an echo in here?” Detrich asked.

“Probably,” Captain said.

“Kevin McHale is your brother?” Wojo repeated.

“That’s what she said,” a tall, thin, balding man dressed in a pair of semi-tight jeans and an army green shirt said. By the sound of his accent, I guessed he was Hispanic. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he said extending a hand. “Sgt. Alamguata. Chano for short.”

“Pleased to meet you. Sgt. McIntyre. Jules for short.” I also met Ron Harris, a black, well-dressed man w/a moustache.

About two hours later, Kevin came in. I was sitting at my desk when I hear, “Hey! McHale!”

I was ready with a comeback before I was sure who’d spoken, but I quickly swallowed my words when I saw Kevin. “Kevin!”

“Jules!” He swung me around as we hugged.

“Kevin! Let me get a look at you!...My god! Where’s the business suit?” (He ALWAYS wore one when he wasn’t practicing.) He was in a pair fo jeans and a Celtics t-shirt.

“I figured it was time to sink down to your level.” I hit him playfully in the arm. (Mind you now, he’s 6’10”.)

Captain Miller came out of his office. “Would you keep it down please? This is an old building.”

“Sorry, Cap’n,” I said. “Oh, hey, lemmie introduce you to my older, and I stress OLDER brother. Kevin McHale, Cap’n Miller.”

So, Kev met everybody and I asked Cap’n for a few minutes alone with him (Kevin). We used Cap’n’s office. “Yeah, sis, what can I do you for?”

“Uh, yeah. I appreciate the passes and everything, but could ya get me two more?”

“Sure. No problem. What are big brother’s for?”

“Thanx Kev. I wanna take everybody here to the game. I mean I couldn’t just ask three people and let two stay home.”

“I know what you’re doing sis. Kissing up.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr. McHale. Jules McHale-McIntyre does NOT kiss up.”

“Right. Listen, I better let you get back to your job. You can get the tickets tomorrow at the box office.”

“Thanx Kev. You’re an angel.”

“I know, I know,” he said coolly examining his nails.

“You’re a real riot too,” I said.

“Oh, you remember our old group?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Becos you gotta have a password to get the tickets.”

“Right. ‘Kevin McHales sez the Super Suicide Society of the Summer Session has Succumbed.’”

“Exactly. Listen, I really better let you get back to your job. Catch you tomorrow.”

“Okay, Kev. Bye.” He kissed the top of my head and left.

 

“Cap’n, can I have a word w/you?” I asked.

“Yeah sure, Jules.” I entered his office and closed the door.

“Uh, I have tickets for the Celtics/Knicks game tomorrow night, and I have one for everybody, but concidering the fact that I’m new here, I wouldn’t know how to go about it. Any suggestions?”

“I’d say just come right out and as ‘em all at once.”

“As a group?”

“Yeah. That’s the best way I can think of.”

“Okay, I’ll try it. You know ‘em best.”

So, I tried it and everybody accepted. I went in my Celtics t-shirt from Kevin, Levi’s, Larry Bird Converse sneakers, and the Celtics jacket Larry gave me. The guys were all dressed in business suits like K.C. We weren’t alloud in the lockerrom at ½ time becos they were down by 27, and K.C. wouldn’t let us in. By the end of the 3rd, they were down by 30.

I knew what had to be done. Half way thru the 4th quarter, Detric turned to me and goes, “Are you helping in any way?”

“I cannot tell a lie: perhaps.”

“That’s cheating, you know.”

“What’s cheating?” Harris asked.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Does Kevin know?” Detrich asked.

“Are you kidding? He’d strangle me if he knew. If he suspects anything, he’ll let me know.”

“How? Buy setting your hair on fire?”

“No. Just giving me a 1st degree burn on the hand.”

“Kidding, right?”

“No. I’ve gotten used to it. I mean, come on, he’s five years older than he. He’s had a whole bunch of fun. He burns me, and I lift him.”

“Such love.”

“I know. Course we might not find out if he knows until after the game. This is the last game before the championship. I’m definately not gonna miss that series.”

“Well, they play the lakers, and they’re a damn good team.”

“I know. That’s why Kevin wants me there. I’m his good luck charm.”

“Not to mention his ball carrier.”

I nudged him in the ribs and said “Shhhh!” He just smiled.

After the game in the lockerrom, I got to talk w/all my old buddies, and the guys met my old buddies. Kevin took me aside and goes, “You helped, didn’t you?”

“Somewhat. I just put in the close ones for you and took out the close ones for them. Most of it was up to you.”

“It’s dishonest, J.”

“I know, but you liked winning, didn’t you? Besides you want me at the championship, don’t you? You know you’re gona need help w/Kareem. That is if your Achilles tendon doesn’t give out on you.”

“God, you’re a cynic.”

“I know, I know.”

He put his arm around me. “Listen, what about the <3 life? One of the guys you work with?”

“MYOB! When are you gona get married Mr. Hotshot?”

“Okay, okay. I know, I know. Lay off.”

“Right. Listen, babe, you better go take a shower. You stink.”

He fluffed my hair and went off to the showers. Up came Larry. He was wearing only a towel. “You always seem to find the right crowd to hang out w/. Cops. Gosh, I never thought cops could be so cool.”

“It’s amazing how many ‘cool’ people you can find if ya just look.”

“That’s my problem. I don’t look enough.”

“It’s time for you to open your eyes, Lar,” I said poking him in the ribs. “You and Kevin both. For cryin’ out loud, find yourselves some wives and make some little Larry Bird’s and Kevin McHale’s to follow in Daddy’s footsteps.”

“You’re right, as usual.”

“Am I ever wrong?”

“Rarely…So, we’re in town until Tuesday, so how ‘bout dinner tomorrow?”

“Oh, Jeeze, Lar, I’d <3 to, but I gotta double shift it. I got handed a case from homicide just before I left. Some guy’s been going around cutting up people and leaving them in hefty bags. I wanna get this one over and done w/as fast as I can. The thought of it makes my stomach turn.”

“I see what you mean. Okay. Maybe next time.” And he left to get dressed.

Detrich comes up to me. “Looks like Larry’s upset. What’d ya say to him?”

“I told him I couldn’t make it to dinner tomorrow ‘cos of double shifting.”

“You dope. He thinks you don’t want to go with him.”

“Of course I want to go w/him. I would prefer to wrap up that homicide case I was handed.”

“Oh, Jules. You’ve got so much to learn about men’s egos. You’re crushing his. Tell him you’ll go. You can work overtime some other time.”

“You know, you’re right. Thanks for the advice.”

So we went out the next night, and ended up back at my place.

END