Declan Shaw

Julian laughed, perching on the edge of Declan’s desk. “You sure about that?” He asked amicably, a teasing smile on his lips. “I just typically assume that I have some kind of a chance with anyone who isn’t, or at least hasn’t at some point bumped uglies with Mac.” He joked, well-aware that Declan didn’t approve of Mac and her practices around the workplace.

“Seriously though, you need any help here or are you just blowing me off?” He asked, looking over the paperwork stacked around the desk.  

“Based on that criteria, I guess you would have at least a small chance with me.” The idea of sleeping with Mac was unthinkable, but then so was having a civil conversation since she seemed incapable of that. 

Declan also glanced around his desk when Julian did and shrugged. “If you wanted to help, I wouldn’t say no, but you seemed kind of like you were sick of paperwork. I wouldn’t want to wreck your night, or anything.” He picked up his coffee mug and took a sip, grimacing at the temperature. Cold already. Hadn’t he just filled this cup? Clearly he was losing track of time. 

@declan-shaw

Jason was in the break room getting a cup of coffee and minding his own business when he saw Mac coming down the hallway. He immediately made out to pretend like he hadn’t (and wouldn’t) notice her but not before she made a lewd gesture in his direction as she passed the open doorway. He breathed an irritated sigh, flipping off someone who was already gone just to try and make himself feel better.

“Do you think she’s blackmailing someone in HR?” He glanced over his shoulder to where Declan was standing at the refrigerator. “She’s gotta have some good shit on someone over there.” He grumbled, grabbing his mug of coffee and dropping into a chair at the small table in the corner.

Declan glanced up in time to see Mac going by in the hallway and frowned, though didn’t miss the wordless exchange between her and Jason. She was something else, and Declan still couldn’t understand why she was allowed to stay. Jason had a theory, apparently, and Declan nodded as he grabbed his containers of salad and dressing out of the fridge. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised. I don’t see how else she could still be here.” He walked over to the table and put the containers down then grabbed himself a coffee and joined Jason. Hopefully no one else came in, since the table was really only big enough for the two of them. “Do you think if we got enough signatures on a petition Bax would fire her?” It was half a joke, but kind of serious. Declan was out of other ideas as to how to get rid of her. 

@declan-shaw

Julian had noticed before that he and Declan were often left in the office long after their shifts had ended. Maybe it was because they were both used to the way that things were done in Chicago PDs, or maybe it was because they were picking up the slack left by other’s- or maybe they just had nothing better to do. 

Dropping his phone on the desk, Julian moved to stand. Mac hadn’t responded to his texts about hanging out after work and he was pretty sure he’d lose his mind if he tried to process any more paperwork. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and pulled it on, dropping his phone and keys in the pocket. 

“Get a drink with me.” He told Declan as he approached the other’s desk en route to the exit. “You need the fresh air and I need a drink.

Declan was happiest when there was work to be done. He liked to stay busy and be productive, and there was certainly lots to do at the MWPD. He was, somewhat surreptitiously, trying to make things more efficient with some of the processes, but he kept running into road blocks. Apparently, people in this town didn’t like change very much and wanted to keep doing things the same way they always had, even if it didn’t work as well as it could have. Declan, then, had had to go around several people to implement his changes and it was slow work. Not to mention the casework and paperwork he had on his own. It meant that he thrived on coffee, as he usually did, and stayed at the station late most nights. 

He’d noticed Julian was also here late and that wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, something he could respect even if he disapproved of the other man’s choice of friends. Declan had no idea how Mac was still on the force and had made some recommendations to Bax already but nothing seemed to have been done. At least she wasn’t here now, though of course she pretty much never stayed late. 

Glancing up when Julian approached his desk, he blinked and raised his eyebrows slightly. “I don’t think you’re my type.” He joked, musingly, but leaned back in his chair. “In all honesty, though, I’ve got a lot to do here. Feel free to go on without me, though. Maybe I’ll catch up later.” He probably wouldn’t, but it was the most polite way he could think of turning the other’s offer down. 

It wasn’t that Dabria hated Christmas. She just hated how quick everyone was to begin displaying Christmas decorations. The house she’d grown up was already decked out in hundreds of multicolored lights and they were only a week removed from Halloween. Over half of the stores she walked into were playing Christmas music around the clock. It had led to Dabria wearing her headphones where she went with the volume turned up to flood out any and all holiday noises. It also had the fortunate, or unfortunate depending on the situation, quality of drowning out all other noises. Including someone either just talking aloud in the hopes that she would or actually trying to talk to her. Hearing the voice, she tugged one bud out of her ear. “Yeah, I wasn’t listenin’ to anythin’ you just said.”

Declan didn’t mind Christmas. He liked that, if only for a month, it inspired people to be nicer to each other no matter what the actual reason behind it. Sure, it was commercial and could be very lonely and sad for some people (he didn’t consider himself one of those people but someone else might have) but there was still something about Christmas that made him happy. Maybe it reminded him of his childhood and while he skirted around memories as much as possible, there was still a sense of wonder and excitement that lingered around Christmas and he tried to hold onto that if nothing else. There was still work to do, though, and it wasn’t Christmas yet and Declan had been heading over to the morgue to talk to Dabria when he happened upon her walking down the street. Convenient. “Excuse me?” He walked over to her and smiled pleasantly but she didn’t seem to hear him. “I was wondering if we could talk for a minute?” Belatedly, he noticed the ear buds in her ears and shook his head at himself when she plucked one out and explained. “Sorry, I was just wondering if you had a few minutes to talk about a case?” They already knew each other professionally so he didn’t think he needed to expand on it much more. 

Taylor pretended to gasp in surprise, pressing a hand to her chest. “A participation ribbon? Just what I’ve always wanted! How did you know?” she teased with a grin. Her father could rant for days about the uselessness of participation awards, but she personally didn’t mind them. It was nice to be recognized even if you didn’t ultimately win. “If you do try your hand at it, at least you know your pumpkin won’t come in dead last. I’ve got that position on lock.”

“I always have had a knack for reading people.” Declan played along, smiling. “Though I forgot the actually ribbon at home. Sorry.” He didn’t often do much outside of work but when he did it was almost always with coworkers. They pretty much became his friends and he’d only worked with Taylor a short time but he already considered her one. They had a similar mentality and work ethic and that was always a plus in Declan’s book. “I think I’ll leave it to people who are better with a knife. Besides, I’m kind of trying to keep an eye on things.” He glanced around, as if expecting things to suddenly erupt into a chaotic mess. Seeing as it didn’t, he looked back at her. “It’s good for some of us to take part in the activities, though.” 

Taylor stared down at her pumpkin – it looked like it’d been carved by a drunk six year old. This was why she was a cop and not an artist. The eyes were uneven, the smile lopsided and she’d messed up with the top so it didn’t sit right and wanted to fall inside. “This is one of those I tried so no one should judge me type situations… Maybe I should just accidentally knock it off the table and smash it.”

Declan winced as he approached the massacred pumpkin, pulled out the magnifying glass that went with his costume, and pretended to inspect it for a moment. “I’d say this was a case of a good effort but an overall unsuccessful attempt.” He smiled and straightened, tucking the magnifying glass back into his coat. “You get points for participating, I didn’t even do that much.” 

Bax: Almost definitely. I’ve got 5 Rascals and counting Bax: Wyatt Hartman is allegedly here too. Has anyone got eyes on him?

Bax: With drugs, alcohol, or a combination of both

Bax: Creative. I’m in plainclothes. I’ll be near the maze

Declan: One wonders why we have punch at all. 

Muddy Waters Task: Monster Mash

Vivian didn’t say anything for a while after he spoke. It wasn’t that she hated the police, it was simply that she didn’t think they were all that much use in this sort of world. Half the time they were about as corrupt as the the gangs they pretended to fight against. 

Her eyes moved back up to look at him when offered to look at the case himself, “No, not necessarily,” she began to answer him, looking around the street. God, it had barely changed and yet she couldn’t believe how much she hated it now. “It’s my case”.

She was silent for a moment and he wondered, at first, if she was trying to compose herself but she didn’t really seem that upset. Declan was fine waiting her out, though, and giving her her space. Apparently the missing person wasn’t a family member, which meant he might not be able to share any details and he was about to mention that when she announced that it was her own. Declan blinked a couple of times as he processed that. “You want to check in on...your own case?” That was...unusual, to say the least. “Have you just gotten back into town, then?” Was she a cold case who’d turned up and wanted to see what progress had been made? If she was checking in it clearly hadn’t been solved by the Muddy Waters cops and yet, here she was. This was heading in a direction he hadn’t expected. 

“Be my guest,” Kat replied, pushing away from where she’d been leaning against the car. “I’m betting you know more than I do.” 

One of these days Katherine was really going to have to learn something about maintaining her car beyond change the oil every so often and fix whatever broke. It just…didn’t really interest her and she’d managed to get by this far with her extremely limited knowledge. Of course, that ignorance could have contributed to the vehicle’s current problems, but the fact that the car was nearly thirty years old probably had more to do with it. 

“I swear it was fine yesterday.” 

Declan nodded and closed the distance between himself and the car, moving around to the front to pop the hood. He got it up and more white smoke that had been trapped under the hood blew out and he took a couple steps back, waving it away. Once it was mostly clearly, he glanced around the parts for a moment and confirmed his suspicion. He leaned back out and approached the woman. “Looks like you had a gasket blow so you’re leaking coolant. You’ll probably want to get it towed into the shop and get it fixed before it wrecks your engine completely.” Declan knew a handful of things about cars, mostly enough to identify problems but didn’t have the expertise to fix them himself. 

Glancing at the car when she mentioned it was fine yesterday, he had his doubts about that. It looked like it was barely holding together but he was too polite to mention that. “I can give you a lift to the mechanic’s, if you want. Or stay here until the two truck comes, up to you.” Declan liked to be helpful and feeling useful was better than the mundane tasks he’d been up to. His groceries should be fine for a while, anyway, before anything started to spoil. “I’m Declan, by the way.” He smiled and extended his hand. 

Katherine’s car had never been nice but when she’d gotten it at seventeen it had been serviceable. Or, at least she’d thought it was. Her father had helped her buy it and they both thought they’d gotten a good deal until about six months later when it started having issues. They’d planned to replace it but then her father’s accident had happened and there just hadn’t been time or funds. At this point there was probably more duct tape holding the thing together than actual parts. 

Stubborn to a fault, Kat refused to replace the damn thing. Anything she could afford wouldn’t be much better anyway so she just did what she needed to keep the rust bucket limping along and walked when she could. She should have walked today, but the sky threatened rain so she’d taken her car. This was how she’d ended up stranded on the side of the road, a thick white smoke seeping out from under the hood. Not knowing much about cars, she wasn’t entirely sure if it was steam from the radiator or actual smoke indicating her car had given up to the point of spontaneous combustion, but she didn’t really want to open the hood and find out. 

“Perfect…” she muttered. 

Declan was off work (not that he ever liked that, but sometimes it was necessary) so he was running errands which was pretty much the only reason he’d taken his car. It was nothing special but it ran well and hadn’t given him too much trouble so he was pleased with it. Groceries in the trunk, he was driving back in the general direction of his apartment and trying to think about whether he’d forgotten anything when he noticed a car on the side of the road, spewing white smoke. Frowning slightly, he pulled up behind the car and parked. 

“You need a hand?” He asked the woman, getting out of the car and walking over to her. She probably did, she was just standing on the side of the road, but maybe she’d already called someone to help her. “I’m not an expert but I’ll see what I can do, if you want.” The white smoke had already given him an idea of what was wrong but he’d have to pop the hood to confirm it. 

Putting one foot in front of the other, Billie’s body swayed to the music emanating from one of the headphones lodged in her right ear. It was a chilly, late evening in Muddy Waters tonight but she’d always loved the bite of the cold. There was something exciting for her to feel the wind brush up against her skin, leaving her cold and breathless. For someone who had spent her youth running around in cutoffs and a t-shirt in the humid, sticky summers of Kentucky, she’d always held a fondness for autumn. While the days dragged on in the summer, autumn brought change and chance. The summer heat may have stoked tempers but the autumn cold inspired people to do strange things. Especially as it grew closer to Halloween - last year’s fire was a testament to that. 

Unfortunately, it seemed the weather wasn’t content with just being chilly. Within a couple of minutes, Billie found herself on the main strip with a storm bearing down on her. The rain hadn’t been immediate but halfway to Rusty’s, the skies had darkened and started pouring. Cold, fat raindrops landing on her head and cheeks, causing the rascal to duck underneath the nearest alcove in between shops. Shaking out some of the water from the hair, Billie’s attention was drawn to the figure approaching her dry spot. Nodding and pulling the earphone from her ear, she drawled out a greeting.

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

It seemed, perversely, that in the aftermath of the flood there was both too much to do and too little to do at the same time. Most actual cases had been put on hold to try and do damage assessment, file claims, and figure out just what would need to be done to keep everyone safe while reconstruction started. That was all well and good during the day, but it was regulated to just that - during the day. There was no case that he could stay up for hours working on and just end up falling asleep at the office so when roughly five o’clock hit, they were all expected to leave. Declan had pretty much always worked more hours than he was supposed to and he’d cheated the last few nights in getting some paperwork cleaned up and reorganizing the filing system but that was all done and he found himself with free time. Declan didn’t much like free time since he never really knew what to do with himself and going back to his empty apartment and just sitting there, watching Netflix or whatever, wasn’t exactly his style so he’d found himself roaming, for lack of a better word. The Syndicate was still in town and so were the Rascals. He doubted the streets would remain peaceful for long because of that so he could justify it as being on patrol, doing his due diligence to make sure the streets were safe. 

Declan hadn’t accounted for the rain, of course. His mind had wandered as he walked, something he usually tried to keep busy enough that it didn’t, and he was thinking about Travis and trying not to when he’d felt the first cold drops of rain. Glancing up, the sky was dark and threatening and by the time he’d hurried his pace, it was raining pretty hard. He managed to duck into an alcove, noticing it was already occupied, and gave the person a slight smile. She was the mechanic, he was pretty sure, with ties to the Rascals but Declan had had to learn to try not to judge people too harshly for ties to that gang since just about everyone in town had one. 

“Yeah, it’s perfect.” He shook his head, bemused, glad that he only seemed somewhat damp and wasn’t legitimately soaked. “I guess we picked the wrong night for a stroll.” 

“Well, I’m fairly certain the latte I got here yesterday was made with bad milk, or something.” Effie stated firmly, staring the barista right in the eye. She was normally less confrontational than this with service workers, but she didn’t want to give up her favorite coffee shop because of one bad experience, so she felt she owed it to them to explain how she got sick after visiting their establishment yesterday. The barista shrugged apologetically and offered her a refund, even though he clearly didn’t believe her. 

Effie waved away his refund and turned around to leave, feeling slightly embarrassed and put off by the whole thing. 

Declan, having been unfairly banned from the Rise and Grind, had had to seek coffee elsewhere. There were a few other shops in town so he’d have to hope his luck was better at those place. He should really just buy the Sheriff’s Department a new coffeemaker, since that didn’t seem to be a top priority, but he hadn’t done that yet so he was scoping out this particular shop for his usual caffeine fix. 

He happened to walk in at the tail end of a conversation which seemed to imply someone had gotten sick from drinking here and Declan frowned. Great. The woman turned towards him, clearly headed for the door, and he moved out of her way so she could get to it but felt like he had to ask. “Sorry, did you get sick from drinking coffee here? I overheard your comment about bad milk and I was just wondering.” Declan couldn’t risk getting sick. He slept badly enough as it was, he didn’t need illness on top of that. 

“Recommendations aren’t worth shit. You actually make an arrest, you get someone fired, and maybe your ban will get lifted. Maybe you’re a good guy, maybe.” Rocket eyed him hard, taking her hand of the coffee. She swallowed hard before finishing. “But remember, I’m watching you.” She turned and began doing other things, her voice was the only thing that hung in the coffee shop, a scared silence having come over everything and everyone.

“They’re about as much recourse as I have right now. Like I said, I’m new. But I’ll keep that in mind.” There was clearly no point insisting that he was a good guy because Declan doubted she’d believe him anyway. She relinquished his coffee and he took it, at least he’d get that out of this trip. She made another vaguely threatening comment and he just contained his eye roll and kept it to a polite nod instead. “I’ll keep it in mind. Have a good day.” He forced the polite comment out before he took his coffee and nodded to the other patrons as he headed for the door. He wished buying coffee was easier but it looked like he’d have to go elsewhere from now on anyway. 

We’re not all the same. Those were the sort of words that had burrowed into Rocket’s heart and made her the sort of stone faced woman she had become. This was a modern world, a world in which one person came to represent all of their people. If cops had done it to LGBT or the people of colour, one LGBT woman of colour could do it to every single cop. She clenched her teeth together hard, one hand around his coffee, the other poised to take his money. She was firm in her look, but her eyes were an inferno of barely repressed rage.

“Get out.” Rocket said quickly through teeth gritted so tightly she could actually feel parts of her gums bleed towards the back. She was maybe half Declan’s height but she was never afraid of anyone. “You clean your rat’s nest of the scum who carry a badge, and maybe, just maybe I’ll think of lifting your ban. If you come in here again, on duty or off, I will chew your throat right out your neck, am I clear?”

Nothing he said seemed to be making the situation better, not that he’d really expected it would but honestly, he’d never done anything to her personally and he didn’t think he’d been in town long enough to really earn any kind of reputation. He was being painted with the brush she she painted all cops with, apparently, and he found it annoying and unfair. Granted, not everyone had great experiences with the cops and he was getting the drift that there might have been a lot more officers like Mac in the recent past, so he probably couldn’t blame her. Still. 

He handed her the cash even as she issued a ban for him, sighing slightly and reaching to take his coffee from her, if she’d even give it to him which seemed doubtful. “I’ve already made some recommendations to the Sheriff but I’m new so I don’t have much sway. Trust me, I want to clean the place up as much as you do.” Declan bit back a comment about her threatening an officer, since that definitely wouldn’t help his case here, and just nodded. “Fine.” Hopefully she would give him his coffee now and he could just go.