Snow Miser and Heat Miser: CI style
By: El Chacal
Disclaimer: don't own anything except my imagination. Don't sue me, Dick Wolf!
The cold breeze biting at her skin caused Alex to wake from her deep slumber. Looking around, she found herself in the precinct only it was frozen from pillar to post with ice slick floors that you could ice skate on and icicles hanging from the ceiling.
"Hello? Is anyone here? Are we hiring penguins and polar bears all of a sudden?"
Just as she was about to walk towards the captain's office that seemed to be painted in blue and white, a gaggle of provocatively dressed dancing girls dressed in blue emerged from under the myriad of desks as music from an unseen orchestra played from the PA system, their faces hidden by veils.
Lining up in formation, they all pointed coyly at the office door before it was blown in by a gust of 50 below winds. Alex shivered in the winds as a figure emerged from the cold office.
Now, as a detective, Alexandra Eames thought she had seen it all, but the man who walked out before her made her jaw drop to the icy floor.
"Bobby?!?"
There stood the unorthodox, star detective of the Major Case Squad (and her partner), dressed in a navy blue suit, cobalt blue shirt and midnight blue tie with white snowflakes. In his hand was a clear see-through crook cane.
"Who do you think you are in that crazy get-up?" Alex said partially shocked and partially amused.
With a quirky smirk, Goren looked at his partner and broke into song.
"I'm Mister White Christmas. I'm Mister Cool. I'm Mister Icicle, I'm Mister 10 below. Friends call me Snow Miser, whatever I touch turns to snow in my clutch. I'm too much."
Mock shivering, Goren began spinning as the girls circled him, their faces hidden by veils, singing in a tune that was hauntingly familiar. "He's Mister White Christmas, he's Mister Snow. He's Mister Icicle, he's Mister 10 below."
Sweeping Alex off her feet and into his arms, he continued to sing. "Friends call me Snow Miser, whatever I touch turns to snow in my clutch."
"He's too much." The cabaret girls chorused together, throwing their veils off in melodrama. Eames gasped as she saw clones of herself dancing around Bobby, practically throwing themselves at him.
Sliding towards the thermometer on the wall after setting Alex in an ice-carved chair, Goren motioned to it as though it were part of a crime scene. "I never wanna know a day that's over 40 degrees. I'd rather have it 30, 20, 10, 5, then let it freeze!" as he sang, the temperature dropped all the way past the zero mark.
"He's Mister White Christmas, he's Mister Snow. He's Mister Icicle, he's Mister -10."
"Friends call me Snow Miser, whatever I touch turns to snow in my clutch. I'm too much."
Eames woke up from her sleep just as she heard the commercial for 'The Year without a Santa Claus' on NBC. Looking at the time, she just went off to bed but not before turning off the TV. Shaking her head, she mumbled, "Too much."
A/n: whether it sucked or not, let me know. If you think it's good enough and wants the Heat Miser companion piece to this one, please review. The reviews encourage me to write. If this is good enough to continue, tell me. If not, I'll delete it.