Director Carter had the north corner of this top floor of the building, which was set diagonally in its block. On either side of him were offices for the section directors, and in the south corner was the Field Assistant, flanked by the leads for Special Teams and Investigations, as well as several extra offices for offworld ranking officers visiting Imp City. Since Ashton was currently at once the Investigations lead and the Field Assistant, he had the south corner office, and Peabody and Stone shared the Investigations Lead office.
In the center of the floor was a large open bullpen area, divided in half. The south half comprised the investigators – Ashton’s Gang – and the north half the special teams, with Forensics placed in the middle near the investigators.
Most of the move into the Fields floor had been completed, and the various denizens were starting to settle in, when a minor catastrophe took place.
Abruptly the whole floor heard a double thud, followed by a “Whoop!” and then a “WHOA!” and everyone in the bullpen and opposing offices looked up, just in time to see Lee Carter literally ass over head, as he somersaulted over a low credenza someone had left in his doorway – which had been closed moments before.
Carter caught lightly with his outstretched hands, but then allowed his arms to collapse as he tucked his head and rolled, coming up on his buttocks, wide-eyed with surprise. He grunted once, then rolled backward and released his tuck, ending up sprawled on the floor, spread-eagled on his back.
“Oof,” was all he said.
The room – which had frozen in shock at the sight – animated, and everyone came running, Ashton in the lead, vaulting over two chairs and a desk to reach him. He knelt beside his supervisor, friend, and father figure, and put a hand lightly on Carter’s chest to prevent him from rising too soon.
“Stay put! Lee, are you okay?” he asked.
“I dunno yet,” came the reply. “I’m still taking inventory. Is everything attached?”
Ashton snorted, and a chuckle went around the room. He looked up at Stone, who stood nearby.
“Call Dr. Withers,” he ordered, “and let’s have him check out Lee. He seems okay, but he might have still injured something.”
“On it,” Stone said, dropping into VR.
“Fine,” Carter said, looking over his head at the obstacle which had caused this incident. “While you’re at it, you investigations types find out why the hell that thing,” he jabbed a finger over his head at the credenza, “was parked right in front of my office door, please! And what idiot did it! Because it damn sure wasn’t there when I closed the door!”
“On it, Lee,” Peabody said, likewise dropping into VR.
Brandon Elliott knelt on Carter’s other side, and together he and Ashton helped Carter sit up slowly.
“Mmph,” the Director grunted, rubbing various body parts. “I’m gonna know about this tomorrow, for damn sure.”
“You sure you’re okay?” a concerned Ashton asked again. “It looked to me like you tucked properly, but you didn’t hit your head anyway, did you?”
“No, that’s the one thing I know for sure did not hit,” Carter averred. “Everything else, shit hellfire damnation, did it hit.”
Just then, Withers hurried up, having apparently taken the elevator in emergency express mode.
“I know all about it,” he said, crouching in front of Carter. “Pete Stone filled me in as I came up. What hurts?”
“It would be easier to tell you what doesn’t,” Carter fired back.
“Okay, what doesn’t?”
“My head. Everything else, forget it.”
“So you didn’t hit your head when you flipped over the shelving?”
“Nope. Way too much martial arts training for that. Just not enough to remember to go splat and distribute the impact.”
“Never mind the lack of dojo pads,” Ashton added.
“Whole damn lotta that,” Carter agreed.
“Does anything feel broken or badly torn?”
“No, I don’t think so. Just bruised. As in, to hell and back.”
“All right. Gentlemen, help me get him upright, and I’ll escort him down to my infirmary and take a look. We don’t need bone chips, green breaks, or torn anything from this little incident.”
Withers, Ashton, and Elliott helped Carter stand up, then Elliott served as a walking aid, with one arm around Carter’s back. Withers took the other side, and the trio headed for the corridor, moving slowly and carefully.
“Nick, you’re in charge until I get back,” Carter called over his shoulder.
“All over it, Lee.” Ashton turned, to see Peabody exit VR. “Whatcha got, Win? Did somebody do that deliberately, or was it a big-ass screw-up?”
“It was a huge-ass screw-up, Nick,” Peabody said then, shaking his head. “The moving company has a couple new kids, on break from the University and looking to make some cash for tuition, and evidently they’re not the brightest lights in the fixture. The job supervisor has narrowed the problem down to them, and he’s reaming ‘em a new one right now. They’ll send someone with some sense up here to move that credenza to where it’s supposed to be.”
“That’s good,” Ashton said with a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. “For a second there, I wasn’t sure if we needed an ambulance or a circus tent.”
Another low laugh went around the room, but it sounded rueful. Suddenly Jim Carson piped up.
“Hey, Win, those wouldn’t be the same guys that left the file cabinet in the fifth-floor men’s room, would it?”
“The what?!” Ashton expostulated.
“Yeah, I heard about that, and yeah, it was,” Peabody confirmed. “And hosed up the corner stall so badly, the plumbing fixtures people are gonna have to come back out and redo it, toilet, stall walls, and all.”
“Well, that probably explains why the Evidence Room can’t find half their catalogued evidence,” someone
