Author's Note: Hi guys, this is a challenge story. The idea came from Javelin to write a DS involving 2 DS characters, something sticky, a feather duster, ice, and packing peanuts. This story is not part of my Lynda Series, even though it has her in this as well (I've just grown accustomed to her, I guess). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!

What Possessed Me To Write This?

by Jackie

pixie7@gte.net

Lynda was lounging at her desk, chewing on a big wad of bubble gum. It was a slow day in the city of Chicago, so she was spending it blowing big bubbles. Her father, Ray, and Fraser were off doing something - what they wouldn't say - so she was stuck in the bullpen, listening to Dewey and Huey's one liners. They was getting old fast.

Sighing, she got up from her chair and ventured over to the lounge to refill her thermos with fresh ice and water. Right as she closed the lid, she heard humming and singing. She turned around to see Turnbull coming in. He was wearing his red surge uniform - usual for him - but also a frilly apron and carrying a feather duster. He was dusting the walls and vending machines.

"Turnbull?" she asked.

"Yes?" Turnbull looked up from his work.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but why are you dusting the vending machines? In fact, why are you dusting here? Shouldn't you be at the Consulate?"

"Well, normally I would, but not today. Today is a very special day."

"And what's so special about today?"

"Well, in honor of curling, I have decided to throw a little party."

"Why not do it at the Consulate?"

"I was in the process of setting up a little party, but Inspector Thatcher threw me out. So, I decided to come here, seeing how it's a slow day and not too many people are here."

Lynda sighed. This was not how she wanted to spend her day. "Does Welsh know?"

"Lieutenant Welsh seemed very busy, so I decided to set the party in here. Nothing too fancy, just a little -"

"Whatever," Lynda interrupted.

"Oh, you think you can come?"

"I . . . uh, have to see Mort about a dead guy," Lynda lied. "Sorry." She quickly rushed out of the lounge, and nearly ran into Francesca, who was carrying a large bag of packing peanuts. "Frannie, what's that?"

"Confetti," Francesca answered.

"No it isn't," Lynda answered. "Those are packing peanuts."

"Well, Rennie wanted confetti," Francesca explained, "and I didn't have time to get any, so I found these peanuts in the storage closet." She rushed past Lynda and into the lounge. Lynda shook her head and went back to her desk. She sat down at her desk, then began typing on her computer.

About thirty minutes later, she head a loud noise come from the lounge. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she went over and peeked in. She saw Turnbull and Francesca in the lounge, watching a television. They had party hats on and were throwing the peanuts in the air. Every once in awhile, Turnbull would shout, "Sweeeeeeep!"

Lynda quickly left and went back to her desk, where she typed on her computer. It was time to find out exactly what curling was.

THE END