By Aouda Fogg

I've threatened to do it many times. This time I mean it. I really, really mean it.

I'm going to kill Blair Sandburg.

Not because he's a bad cop. Nope, no, sir. He's one of the best and I'm honored to have the man on my squad. Tell him that, and it's you I'll be killing.

No, this impending death threat is because he's been humming that damned song. All. Afternoon. Long.

He's smiled sheepishly a couple times in apology when I've glared, but he's still humming it.

And now he has the entire unit doing.

Even Ellison.

Isn't there something in the Sentinel bylaws that incessant humming is irritating and must be stopped because of zoning danger? There should be.

All right, that's it! That's the third time H has spun with a "yahoo!" as he gets up to pick up a report from the printer.

I stalk to the door and loom in the doorway. I'm very good at looming. Why doesn't it ever work with Sandburg?

"All right, people, consider this an official directive. This is not, I repeat, NOT a Kool and The Gang concert."

Ellison looked up, mid-hum. "Oh, well, that would explain the lack of mirrored balls hanging from the ceiling."

Insolent bastard. Going to kill him, too.

"I understand that we're all pleased about the bust. I'm pleased about the bust. The good guys won. Good work. That does not mean that a rendition of *that* song is necessary."

"Oh, come on, Simon! Two hundred kilos of coke off the streets, the Big Bad in holding downstairs, his hands testing positive for the shit, no cops hurt." It's the kid again. Reminding me why I have to kill him. "'There's a party goin' on right here!'"

"'A celebration to last throughout the years!'" Now Rafe is getting in on it.

I try another glare, but something tells me this is a losing battle.

Suspicion confirmed. Rhonda's next. "'So bring your good times, and your laughter too!'"

Now the whole entire room. Even Ellison. What has the world come to?! Where is the taciturn, I'll kill you with a paperclip pre-Sandburg Ellison? There are times I miss him. I really, really miss him. Sort of.

"'We gonna celebrate your party with you! Come on now!'"

I give it up, and amid more singing and laughter, I retreat into my office. And shut the door.

God, please don't let today be the day the Chief decides to visit.


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