Friday Night Chicago PD

[Orb]

Call me weird, but I like to see the big, strong leaders brought down for some reason (Usually an allergy or something like that) I think that with every movie and TV show, so don't hate, 'cause this is part for me and part for whoever else had this scenario in their mind. Sorry if the plot's dialogues wierd. I knew the scenario, not the words. I'm not to familiar with the characters a whole lot, And I have yet to see a Chicago PD fic on here......

When you go to a bar, bring your sidearm.

This was the thought of Lindsay, Halstead, Dawson, and Voight-After they decided to bring Dawson on a trip to get drunk on his birthday. Add to that the fact that each and every one of them had the next day off, and you got yourself a recipe for chaos. Then again, they weren't thinking anything would happen as they pulled open the doors.

"What're you gonna do with your weekend?" Lindsay asked Dawson. He shrugged.

"I don't know. Sleep. Hang out. Maybe-"

"Heh'eshoo!"

Both of them looked at Hank and Jay, a little surprised. Both men were talking normally, giving them strange looks as they pondered who'd sneezed.

"Who was that?" Dawson turned back to Lindsay.

"Dunno. What's it matter anyway? Want to come over? Having steak tonight."

"Sounds good." They went closer to the other two, joining in on the conversation. "Seriously, which of you guys sneezed?" Neither of the men had bee heard sneezing before, and now Lindsay and Dawson were determined to find out. And maybe sli-i-i-ightly fogged up.

"No one here." Jay said, shooting a look at Hank. He grinned and drank his beer, glancing behind him at the pub's crowded entry.

"You wish. Sneeze again, either o' you, and we'll be laughing at you for days." Antonio looked at the scuffed wood of the counter, thinking about the past week. A movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention and he looked up, in time to see Voight bring his wrist to his face and sneeze sharply into it twice.

"Heh'eshoo! Hehh'ehsh!"

"Jeez, you alright?" Lindsay asked, bumping his shoulder with her own. He nodded.

"Fine. Don't worry about me, worry about Dawson. He's gettin' old."

"You're one to talk." Antonio replied, smiling. Saying that probably wasn't the best thing, as they were all a little tipsy and a fight could easily start. But Hank took it in good humor, going back to his drink.

A crash at the entrance startled everyone, so much so that the bartender dropped the glass he was polishing onto the floor. The small shatter did little to nothing to block the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

"Anyone bring their gun?" Voight demanded, turning for the door. Jay saw him rub his nose, but dismissed it as a simple gesture.

"What kind of idiot brings a gun to a bar for a 'fun' night out?" Antonio said, splaying his hands.

"These kinda idiots! We're cops; We should known this would happen!" Lindsay snapped, picking up a broken bottle. Broken glass was a deady weapon, not a temperary one.

"Put it down! There's too many people here! Someone'll get hurt. Let this place clear out before-"

Hank ducked as a bullet zinged over his head, and straightened, a strange look on his face.

"This place is not going to 'clear out'; They're blocking the doors and there's a crowd of people covering the back way!"

"I know that-Heh'eshoo!" He bent at the waist, catching it in his elbow. Then he pushed all three of them toward the direction of the storage room, allowing multiple others to see where they were going and catch on.

"They'll know we're going there!" She protested, grabbing his arm so he would follow.

"Just go. We'll find a way to escape once we're back there. It locks, right?" He nodded, sneezing again three times into cupped hands.

"Yeah-They're supposed to."

"Take as many people as you can direct. I'll meet you there in five minutes."

Being huddled with lots of scared, half drunk people was the worst thing in the world, Jay decided, shifting his weight so a brain-addled man could stretch out. This was perfectly fair. He was crammed in with a bunch of drooling, gassy people while Antonio and Erin were given plenty of space at the other end. And Hank-Where was Hank? Jay craned his neck and peered around. No where to be seen. Hmm, probably crushed under that women who could stand to lose a few pounds. Not pounds-cinderblocks.

"Where'd Voight go?" He called over the las of bodies. Antonio pointed to his ear and shook his head, and Lindsay swatted his hand away and mouthed:

"Doing something stupid." Then she turned back to Dawson and whispered a very audible 'Happy Birthday'.

"Where is everyone?!" A shady set of blue sneakers were visible under the bathroom stall door, and Hank pulled his knees up to his chest. They weren't to find him. Even if he was probably sitting on alcohol-indiced vomit, the others' fates depended on it. Aparently he'd have to explain it to his sinuses, because they just kept itching like mad, and if he sneezed, he'd be stick fishing his brain from the toilet beneath him. All he had to do was wait for the men to clear it out, but it would still feel like eternity.

"I dunno. Check the stalls. They do that in the movies and get away scott-free."

"This ain't the movies," A gruff voice growled, but he hear the slam of doors being pulled open, then being shut roughly. Daring himself enough not to topple over and make out with the floor, Voight reached as far as he could and locked his stall.

A set of black skate shoes reached the door, and the handle shook. "It's not opening."

"Hey! We know you're in there!" The first man yelled, having the stall.

Voight sniffed as quietly as he could and pitched his nose, trying to will away the sneeze he knew was inevitable.

"Gimme a sec, I'mma tear this bitch to pieces." The man lowered himself to his stomach, and crawled through the gap between the stall and the floor. Peering down between his knees, Hank grinned as best he could through the itch in his nose and lifted his foot.

"Hello," He said, and kicked the guy in the face.

"He said five minutes ten minutes ago!" Lindsay cried frantically, glancing at her watch. Jay agave he a quizzical look as other people turned in her direction.

"Hank can take care of himself, Lindsay. And besides, shouldn't we be worrying about mua?" He gestured to himself and smiled, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. Someone threw a dish rag at his face. "What's your connection to him, anyway? You fuss over that guy like he's your own old man."

"I'll have you know, I was..... Forget it, I'm calling him." She slid her phone from her pocket and found his number, pounding his image.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Jay called from his position by a foggy looking office worker.

"Me too." She said as it rang.

The moment would have been movie perfect if not for his phone going off like a thousand trumpets. Instantly, the other five men converged on his position, locked in the stall. Still, he tried to remain as silent as he could while the ringtone buzzed.

Not easy when you have an allergy attack threatening to hang you over

"Get outta there, we got you surrounded, man! This ain't a joke!" A voice yelled loudly, banging the door again. The plastic-y paneling was staring to give way.

"And I gotta gift for you," He muttered, pushing the unconscious man's body out with the toe of his shoe. Suddenly he couldn't stand it anymore and sneezed harshly into his elbow four times.

"Heh'eshoo! Heh'ish! Hah'isho! Ehisho!"

"Get out!" A new voice snarled, and the group parted for a reason not yet known to him.

"Get'im, Zero!" Shouts cried. Then footsteps rang out, and a thick set man burst into the two-by-two, spraying shards of whatever the stalls were made of these days.

"All I needed was some privacy," Voight groaned."That what you kids do for fun?"

"Dammit, he didn't pick up!"

"Calm down, he's probably still in the bar." Antonio reassured, patting her arm. She shook her head.

"Jay! You and Dawson're coming with me." With that, Lindsay got to he feet and dragged both men out of hiding.

"He's fine." Jay said, rubbing his shoulder from where it had clipped a shard of glass.

"That man has issues with 'being a hero'. He has no idea where to draw the line sometimes and that's where we have to do it for him! Now help me out. Anything can be made into a weapon."

"We were in purgatory at the station. Now we're in hell." Antonio grumbled, finding a pencil.

"You can say that again." Jay replied.

"Heh'shoo!" Hank stumbled forward in the grasp on his two captors, and one of them stomped on his foot.

"Keep walkin'. We don't have time for your 'allergy' shit." One of them grunted. They shoved him onto a stool that hadn't been overturned and shoved the battle of a pistol under his chin, and began asking here they had gone, and if he knew anyone named Jay Halstead.

So he still had a target on his back.

Great.

"Don't..... Don't point that thing at me.... Heh... Heishoo!" He tilted his head and blind fired into the air next to him, and opened his eyes at the startled yell. A man had taken a seat next to him, and was currently wiping his face with his shirt sleeve.

"Dude! Cover those tings up! You gotta bomb goin' off in there or sumthin?" He demanded, leering at Hank.

"That's a way of putting it." He grunted back, and looked back to the man holding the gun. "Can I go? I don't know a Jay Halstead, but if you gimme a life pass I can track him down."

A lie, he'd never turn on his friends.

This bought him a moment's hesitation with the gun, enough time to grab the barrel and turn the weapon so he could wrench it from the guy's grasp. As he did this, however, a sneeze caught him off-gaurd and he was stuck pitching to the side to release it.

"HEH'ISHOO!" The group seized the opportunity to jump him, taking the gun and doing a football class pileup. Fortuantly, Lindsay and Antonio emerged from the storage room. Unfortuanetly, Halstead was with them.

"Run, Jay! They're here to get ridda ya!" He yelled, shoving one man off himself. When he squinted, he could see that they wee armed with....... Was one of those things a pencil? How much help would that provide for him? Lindsay had a broken glass ended beer bottle, and Jay had a pocketknife Voight didn't know he'd owned.

And they just stood there like stunned idiots.

That'll be all for a few hours. Not much sneezing in that, but there'll be more in the next parts.