21 Jump Street (Tom Hanson)

The Dreaded Return of Russell Buckins

Tom was still muttering into the phone, "well, thank you very much."

He hung up as soon as Fuller came up to us. He eyed Doug and Doug spun away over to me. We eavesdropped on their conversation.

"You've seen it," Tom said while looking up at Fuller, stating the obvious.

"Mag's got a big circulation, Hanson." He held his hands behind his back, clearly pissed. "Can I see you in my office a minute?"

"Yeah," Tom said and got up from his desk and headed to Fuller's office.

Doug went up to Fuller and said, "Cap'n, just for the record, you know, I don't happen to think that you 'combine the worst qualities of a drill sergeant and a male fashion model'."

"And just for the record, Penhall, I don't think that's very funny."

Fuller started to leave but Doug followed and said, "well, you know, I didn't write it." He opened the magazine and stopped walking as Fuller continued down his path. "It was Russell."

Doug turned to me and Ioki and yelled, "Russell, the weenie, Buckins!"

"Doug, you don't think I'm hot-headed, do you?" I asked, leaning back against a desk.

"Depends on what time of day it is," he said.

"It was the middle of the night," I said, trying to remember what time of the day it was when I met Buckins at that bar.

"Definitely," he said without hesitation.

I dropped my jaw. "Am not."

"Are so. As much as you like to say you're a night owl, you are absolutely not. And hey, it's not a bad thing."

I was about to snap back with a sarcastic comment, but I had to stop myself because even though I hate to admit it, he is right. I hate staying up late.

Tom came out of Fuller's office and I noticed his gun was gone from the holster that was wrapped around his shirt. He walked up to me and I stopped him by saying, "you should come back when you have something dumb and positive to say because I am livid."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, but you might be happy to know that I am suspended until further notice," he said to us.

"Oh, wow. What are you going to do?" I asked.

"Buckins is down in San Francisco, so that's where I'm headed," he said while heading to his desk to grab his things. "You should come."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Hanson," I said sarcastically, "I actually have a job."

"Right." He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels while looking up at the ceiling. "Forgot what that's like."

"Keep me updated."

"Will do," Tom promised.

He left and Doug and I were on damage control at Jump Street.

One of the phone calls I got a couple hours later was from Tom! It was a nice surprise, considering I've been on the phone all day with people pissed at us.

"Hey, would you be able to pick me up from the airport at... seven?" He asked me. I was imagining that he was looking at his watch. Or at least pretending. Sometimes he looks at his wrist as if he's looking at his watch, but he doesn't have a watch on. I find it pretty funny, I love his subtle and dry sense of humor.

"Sure, not a problem," I said. I was a little surprised that he didn't ask his new girlfriend, Hackie, I mean, Jackie. Just because she snags him to do everything with her. I felt like even I needed time away from her to breathe, and I've only met her a few times.

"Great. I owe you one," he said and hung up.

I should have known that Tom would have been late. I showed up at the airport with flowers and plans for us to get dinner. I looked ridiculous as I waited nearly an hour for his plane. I just gnawed on the inside of my cheek anxiously and I would count how many people debarked from other gates nearby as I patiently waited. The plane came, but he did not. I finally gave up and went home.

It stung to be stood up, so I was a little mad and very annoyed but I tried not to let it bother me. Tom wouldn't have done it on purpose. I knew that I'd get over it quickly though, I just hoped that he had a good reason for not letting me know. When I got home, I listened to his voicemail. He called me while I was at the airport saying that he was going to miss that flight, but it didn't make me feel any better.

The next day I went straight on my assignment, so I didn't have time to stop at the chapel. Apparently, Tom was still in San Francisco that entire day too. I was still just as mad as the day before. When I got home from my assignment, I spent the rest of my day angrily baking cookies and making bread. When I'm stressed, I bake. When I'm anxious, I bake. When I'm mad, I bake. My apartment smelled like a bakery by the time I went to bed.

The following morning, I took the flowers I bought for him and put them in a little vase for my desk, and I arranged them neatly. They're my flowers now, it was my sly way of being petty. I was finishing up some reports when Tom came up to my desk.

"Hey. Did you walk back from San Francisco?" I asked him cynically and I set my pen down on my desk.

"Mick, I am so sorry," he apologized, "I tried to call you, but they said you already left. And I called your apartment, and you weren't there either."

"That's 'cause I was at the airport," I said and looked down at my vase. I would have left them at home because I like to keep a case of fresh flowers on my table, but I wanted Tom to feel bad so I brought them to work. "Not a bad night though, I got to keep the flowers."

"Awe, man, I feel bad," he said, "how about I take you out to dinner tonight? My treat, anywhere you want."

I crossed my grey jean clad legs and leaned back in my chair. I also wore a black tank top with lots of grungy bracelets and necklaces and a studded belt. I ask him, "what about Jackie?"

"What about her?" He asked, almost as if he had forgotten about her.

"Would she mind? Your girlfriend doesn't really like me all that much," I said. We have a stronger professional relationship than a personal one, and I have only worked with her once or twice. I always feel like I'm catching her giving me the stink eye. What have I done to her?

"Sure she does," he said but he didn't sound very convincing. "And she doesn't need to know where I am at every minute of every day. You're my best friend and I'm taking you to dinner."

I smiled and suggested in a dramatic French accent, "how about Le Tarte Tatin?"

The Tarte Tatin is a French restaurant that is one of the fancier restaurants in Metropolis. If I'm living paycheck to paycheck and I'm getting a free meal, it'll be a nice one.

Tom bit his lip and dramatically rolled his eyes.

"Did I hurt you that bad?" Tom asked jokingly.

I put my hand over my heart and said sarcastically, "getting stood up isn't very nice, Tom."

Tom smiled and said, "I'll pick you up at six."

"Not a second later." I smiled back and we both returned to work.

I hope you this liked this one! The next chapter will be the date! 🤩 I'm so excited for you guys to read it! Please vote and comment! 🥰