PROTECT & SERVE

“That’s not politics then. That’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Do I have to explain a classic book to you?” Was he the only one that remembered the book and two movies? He just remembered watching a special on one of the actors in the newer movie. “I guess. Even though it costs zero dollars to be a dick,” He shrugged, “If you’re off duty, shouldn’t you just let them go at it?” He would, knowing that he would be fine with leaving his business for the weekdays, though there were really no days off for him. “Yeah, people are idiots. Does that mean you’re gonna take them in too?” 

•

Her lips spread into an apologetic smile the second she noticed him glancing away with hints of embarrassment on his features. “Too much information? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, it’s just something I’m not embarrassed to talk about, especially if I’m with someone I trust. But I suppose you do have a point, I’m exceedingly open.” Benjamin’s tragic death had somehow separated sex and intimacy for her– nowadays, Nora considered them to be two different acts– and she would much rather be seen naked than crying or vulnerable in any other way. So much for being open, Eleonora. “Anyway, I’ll try to keep my travel anecdotes rated G from now on.” The doctor released a nervous chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Can I tell you, you’re exactly the opposite? I’ve known for you a couple of months now, and yet I hardly know anything about you! Which movie makes you cry? What’s your favorite type of candy? What about siblings, do you have any?” Curious green orbs settled on him, noticing the face he made at the nickname but also catching a glimpse of a genuine smile which was greeted with a light chuckle. “Yeah, but it’s also an amazing friend origin story, Jake–ob,” she quickly corrected herself as they crossed the road and reached her street, gigantic brick building looming over them. “It’s a good thing you’re here, actually. I might need some help pushing the front door open.” The worst part was, Nora wasn’t even joking. 

•

Too much information? Just a bit. Though he didn’t say as much, rather laughing at the comment and shaking his head. “I’m not one to judge. But you are...must be exhausting,” he hypothesized. The thought of being so open and willing to talk about anything made him tired just thinking about it, much less doing it. He admired that about her, though, the way she could reach out and find the most mundane ting to connect to someone over. Jacob appreciated it, especially considering he wasn’t great at doing the same. Sure, he was friendly enough but there was always much of him he held close to the vest. It was easier that way for him.

“Thanks,” he replied dryly, feeling his phone buzz with an incoming text and grabbing it out of his jacket pocket to read as they walked. “There’s not much to know. UP made me cry along with everyone else who saw it, so that’s not interesting, is it?” He shot off a quick response, locking his phone and stuffing it back into his pocket as they crossed the street. “Mmm, I do like sour skittles. But too many and they make my teeth feel weird?” A totally insignificant fact but a safe one. 

“Welcome.” It’s a quick response, far from shy and half full of amusement. There’s always those questions in the back of his head, especially when it comes to the friendlies, about whether or not they are as they present themselves to be. It’s a rare fucking thing, but this is a safer place than most. Allows him to put his guard down just the tiniest fucking bit. Only a tiny bit, though. This is a hot spot for fucking cops and, you know, they tend to fucking suck. “Nah. Because you know what? Burlington is synonymous with boring. What do bored fucking kids do?” They shoot heroin into their eyeballs. That’s what. Or something. He doesn’t fucking know — he’s never touched the stuff, but he’s heard it said in a movie so fuck it. “Get their fucking hands dirty. No such thing as clean. Everyone has that one thing.”

•

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh, casting an amused glance at the other. “I guess if you have to be famous for something, boring is pretty bad for a city. God forbid anyone call New York boring.” Said with mock-horror. He loved this city. It was his city as much as any of the other 8.4 million people inhabiting it but he wasn’t someone to get offended over another’s opinion on it. 

“Junior? Well okay, I’ll take what I can get. Then I’ll surpass you just like that.” Joking, she snapped her fingers at him. They weren’t the competitive duo but it was still fun to think about. She watched him for a brief moment before nodding. He had a point. She got home in one piece. Not really. But it was better than coming home in a casket. She didn’t want to think of her family’s face, even Jacob’s, when it came to that. It was one of the things that kept her up at night. But then, there was also the thought if she was worth enough to have made it out alive.

“Oh c’mon, J. Where’s your fun? I don’t have trashy reality tv shows to watch and this is the first time I’ve had any action since… well, you know what.” She smiled at him and watched as the two argued and it ended with another slap and the girl walking away. “Booo.” Charlotte pouted at the boring display. “There goes my fun. You owe me fun, Bowman.” Nudging him with her shoulder raised her hand to order another. But watching the bartender ignored both their hands she sighed frustrated. “Oh c’mon. He’s obviously after the tips. He does that to all men who looked like they would have cash pouring out of their asses.” She shot the ignorant bartender a glare before turning back to Jacob.

“Work is always a pain for me. But I have April to look forward to — what?!”Her exclamation earned a few looks from the nearby patrons as if planning to watch another bout of drama to unfold. You.. You’re not… Jacob.” She sputtered, frowning. “You can’t be serious.” She never missed a trip, not even her deployment would stop that but still — “I can’t believe I’m saying this because I know we take pride in what we do, but man, fuck your job. I wanna talk to someone in charge and give them a piece of my mind.” Then she paused, “Or should I just give you an earful instead? You never did this before! Never!” 

Finally the bartender walked past and she quickly waved him down and ordered two bottles for them. Their camping trips were a sacred, time-honored tradition that will be handed down to their children. “I won’t go alone!” Charlotte was going to beg if she had to. “It’s good for you! To get out of town for a weekend. Sleep on the ground. Try not to get eaten by monsters at night. C’mon. Don’t bail out on me. We’re close to retiring. Soon our knees won’t be able to do this.” Yes, she was exaggerating, but if she can guilt Jacob then it was a job well done.

•

Jacob waved away her fingers, making a face, “yeah, yeah, just keep thinking like that. You’d be sorely disappointed,” he joked, taking a swig of his beer. “Hey, you’re the one who decided watching people make messes of their lives was fun, not me. Can’t be upset when they actually do.” And it ended in one person storming off and the other looking like a fool.

“If someone was trying to talk to me that fucking much when I clearly didn’t want to talk to them, I think they’d end up with less of a tip. I mean, the standard polite tip, yes, but nothing additional.” He already had to listen to perps talk his ear off in interrogation, bullshit filling the room, he didn’t need it outside of work too. 

Charlotte’s surprise had Jacob giving an apologetic look, shoulders lifted as he set his glass down. “I know, I know. I’d think I was body-swapped too if I were you. But I’m still me. Promise.” He crossed a finger over his heart with an easy laugh as he shook his head. “Look. I’m not saying it’s a hundred percent impossible, just that it’s unlikely April will be good for it. Worse comes to worst, we can shoot for May if you haven’t already traded shifts?” Tradition was tradition and while he hated to flake on it since it was something he looked forward to every year, he couldn’t get work of his mind lately. Too many open cases plagued his thoughts.

It would’ve been funny, had it not been sad. A thirty-something-year-old should’ve learned by now how to deal with silly crushes. However, to Nora it seemed she’d done life the other way around. Marriage first, the rest was to follow, much to her own embarrassment. At this point all the woman could do at was release a somewhat nervous laugh. “Right, a valid reason for handcuffing– of course. Maybe if I’d been reasonable in Barcelona, I wouldn’t have spent eight hours handcuffed to a bed post,” she recalled the pleasant but mostly uncomfortable night. To be fair, Nora didn’t think Jacob lacked imagination, he simply had a hard time imagining her in that or any similar situation. “Well, it might work out, if you were a liar. You’d be able to detect other liars more quickly, no?” 

“Jake,” she looked over at him with a sweet look in her eyes. “Nothing could break up our friendship,” except maybe her own inappropriate behavior, lord help her. “What drunken nights join, nothing can separate,” she joked, twisting the famous Bible quote. “I’d just hate it if you felt obligated to pretend everything’s fine when it’s clearly not.” A shrug followed.

•

He snorted, nodding, “right, valid reasons only.” Her words, however, had him coughing and Jacob did his best to keep a straight face as he glanced in her direction. “Has anyone every told you that you’re an exceedingly open person, Nora?” Clearly comfortable sharing whatever she wished –– it was a trait he could easily admire, having always been more of a private individual himself. “Mmm...maybe. Don’t get me wrong, I can lie. And sometimes work calls for it but I try not to make a habit out of it. So there’s a difference.”

“I’ve always thought too much optimism is just a recipe for disappointment,” she offered, amused as she slipped back into her seat, picking up her own beer. She wasn’t a big drinker at all and certainly not often a beer girl, but something about the mood of the day and the company called for it. “But there are worse flaws you can have in this business, I guess.” 

Taking a small sip, she smiled wryly. “Well, I’m not saying you shouldn’t have faith in people, at least sometimes. But - yeah, alright, Jones never really struck me as a man of taste.” Her smile softened, as if to say she didn’t really blame him for dragging her here. “Still. It’s nice to get out. I don’t do this often enough.” She leaned back in her chair, looking around and determining that she was satisfied things were back to rights again, at least as much as possible. “I don’t know. I’m still calling in that ‘I told you so’ on the Phillips case.”

•

“Well, I don’t think I’m that optimistic but tonight I’m feeling like the most disappointed man in the world,” he joked good-naturedly, unbothered by the teasing as ever. He knew people thought he was too even-keeled for this line of work. Too optimistic. But Jacob was more of a realist than anything. He saw what was and what could be and strove for the latter consistently, despite how dark the city got. If that made him look naive, so be it –– he knew he wasn’t.

He lifted his recovered drink and snickered slightly, “you’ve always been a cynic, Angela, maybe you should take a chance on the wild side. Imagine. I’m not sure the world wouldn’t combust if you did.” Jacob joked, leaning back in his seat enough that the front legs of his chair lifted. 

“Jones isn’t a man of taste, I just thought his absurd need to peacock everywhere would mean he’d pick a place better than this but,” shoulders lifted in a shrug, “at least I learn from my mistakes?” He got on well with most of his colleagues, finding that in this line of business, it was hard not to like the people you worked with when there was already so much opposition at every turn. 

This wasn’t a particular bar she’d be seen in. Nicoletta could always be found in one of those high-end bars and clubs. Mostly to stake out competition and enjoying a drink or two. Raising a perfect eyebrow she watched a bar scuffle unfold in front of her only missing chair in her direction by jumping out of the way. Doing it in Louboutins was a feat on it itself. Once the fight was taken care of she continued to observe the man who stopped the fight and was now setting chairs down right side up.

“Huh, I guess it is. Especially if it always happens here. Is this how your Saturday nights go? Stopping bar fights?”

•

Jacob laughed good-naturedly at the woman’s words, shaking his head. “God, I hope not. Don’t jinx me.” It wasn’t not how his Saturday nights went, but it just depending on the week usually. Turns out this one hadn’t been his lucky one. He gave one last glance over his shoulder at the backs of the individuals loitering outside for a minute longer. “It also wasn’t much of a fight, was it? So much as a uh...shouting match? With a few bottles mixed in.” 

Archie was in the middle of his smoke when all of this was going down. His eyes shifted towards the commotion, curious as to what was happening. He was nosy, always had been and always will be so naturally he moved towards the other man. 

“What were they fighting about?” He couldn’t help but wonder, wondering if he would’ve done the same thing. He was passionate about things that most people probably weren’t. He was always odd in his own right, and not in a quirky way. He just knew he was a little different than some people around here. “Cause some things are worth it.” 

•

Jacob shrugged at the question and scoffed, “politics. I think. Who knows. Heard something about fucking oompa loompas but I couldn’t really tell over the yelling.” Which had drawn him in in the first place. He settled back in his spot by the bar, taking a swig of his nearly forgotten beer. “I think it’s the uh...I have nothing better to do so I’ll be a dick syndrome. Can happen anytime but especially on weekends.” When he was a beat cop, Fridays and Saturdays had some of the highest turnaround of people in and out of the precinct for drunken and disorderly conduct. 

Honestly, what the fuck does he expect? For people to apologize to him? It’s as if Lev isn’t full aware of where he lives, where he stands, and what his personal history is rich in. Rough around the edges, ripe with guilt, fear, loathing, and outright pain, barely safe from all that is this. They could get him on some shit, still, if the true powers that be decided to make it so. A huff of amusement, instead. “You can tell a lot about a person, by their shoes.” One downward glance, and the implication is clear. This man is as dirty as the rest, and Lev’s big brain is at play — a la Forrest Gump. It’s all in good faith, after all. No harm ever came from joking around. “Did those a favor. False advertising, and all that. No such thing as a clean person, in the city.”

•

Jacob chuckled at that, “you’re not wrong.” His job consistent of reading people –– of seeing the things no one else did. Shoes and general attire were an easy way to get an understanding of someone so he supposed it was no surprised it went the other way to. “Appearance is usually the easiest way to read someone. To start.” As if you could tell a lot about someone by their shoes but not everything.

Hah, life would be so much better if her exhausted brain allowed her to romanticize this situation. Out of all people, Jacob Bowman! Finding her on the street of the vast city! Ah, such a swooning moment it would be! However, all she could bring herself to do was press her cool fingers against flushed cheeks and innerly curse. There was much about Jacob Bowman that Nora found attractive. Be it his towering figure, the calming and domineering presence or the charming smile he was absolutely unaware of. “I had to clear it up for you. You’re a detective, you could cuff me at any moment. And not in the way I like,” well, fuck. Speaking of things Jacob was unaware of or hardly ever noticed, she caught her reflection in the glass and saw a woman resembling very much an ugly duckling after working a 24-hour shift, in a pair of oversized scrubs, jazzed up with some dried up blood. Well, fuck 2.0. “I mean– yeah, no– Even if it were mine, I’d know what to do.” Wouldn’t be the first time I patched myself up. Those memories reminded her of the harsh reality and suppress whatever silly infatuation threatened to mess with her. “Liar,” after a moment of observing his expression, she called him out with a hint of playfulness in her voice. “You’re off duty, right? Which means you don’t have to… Stay positive, keep up morale, pretend– any of it.” Nora couldn’t resist placing a hand between his tense shoulder blades, rubbing gently, as any friend would. “No, I’m walking home. Keep me company?”

•

Jacob coughed a laugh at the comment, shaking his head and holding up his hands as if to show that he did not, in fact, have any handcuffs on him at the moment. “I try to have a valid reason for handcuffing someone, usually not for doing their job.” If it was anyone else he might’ve blushed (and who’s to say he wasn’t, considering the combination of an unshaved face and dimly lit streets would obscure any indication of red) but it was Nora, so he didn’t think twice. They’d met Nora a while back, and he could always recall the encounter with some amusement, glad he’d been there to help her out. People were assholes in the city and he did his best not to be. For the most part. 

It wasn’t a Saturday night if Claudine wasn’t drinking the stresses of the week away at her usual haunt: an exclusive, overly expensive Manhattan bar. She’d come to know the staff there, and they had grown to tolerate the blonde’s demands, mostly due to her penchant for overtipping. What better way to assert your dominance than to give the bartenders hundred dollar bills in an exchange for them to turn a blind eye to her doing coke out the back. She knew it was wrong, but in her mind, she could do no wrong, and if she did, her family’s money and connections could get her out of it.

As per usual, she was in her own world, and it took her a solid forty seconds until she realised that a fight had broken out. In her mind, it was pathetic. This wasn’t the sort of place to engage in that sort of behavior… it seemed like a dive bar sort of thing… but here? She felt sorry for the poor sucker who had to break it up.

Turning her head as she heard someone in her vicinity speak, she let out a dry chuckle. “Ah, well… some people really can’t handle their liquor. Kind of sad, really.” She brought her martini up to her lips then, eyeing the man from over the top off the glass. “You were brave, though… getting in between those two. I suppose you have experience in that, hm? Did you spend your college years playing the mediator between men with fragile masculinity?”

•

Jacob had come to this particular bar, not of his own volition or desire, but more so because he knew a potential contact was prone to show up on weekends, and he needed their cooperation on a case he was working. Unfortunately, the events of the night seemed to have scared off any prospect of him crossing paths with the other, so he relented to simply getting a drink before leaving. It wasn’t exactly his scene but the booze was good enough. Better than the shitty dive bar he frequented with friends closer to his neighborhood. This one was upscale so he had dressed the part to look like he belonged.

Haphazard smile on his lips, he shook his head at the woman’s words, casting a sidelong glance in her direction as he took a seat two down from hers. “Sad and consistently disappointing but...that’s the city for you?” He shrugged with a soft chuckle and shoo his head. “More experience than I care to admit. Thankfully I didn’t, though college was rife with it. Fragile masculinity, that is.” Community college or otherwise, the amount of people who showed themselves to be pathetic was astounding. 

“They should really give you a medal,” Vanessa said giving a slow clap. Her partner deserved an award for being an upstanding police officer that even when not on duty managed to get himself in and out of a scuffle (even though he wasn’t really in the fight and just happened to stop it) without getting actual police on duty to be called in. “In my defense I just got here when the fight was over and believe me, I wished I saw action.” She smiled teasingly, helping him pick up chairs and put them back upright for patrons to sit on again. 

And by magic, it was as if nothing had happened earlier, patrons were back to their chairs drinking and having fun. “Well, look at that, Detective Bowman saved the day and cleaned up after himself.” Teasing her partner was a highlight of her duty. Though, even when they do go out for drinks when off duty, she still liked to annoy him. “So, what are we having? I want fries. Or a box of pizza. Or both. And a pint. You?”

•

“They really should,” he snorted at her mockery, taking it in stride. He and Vanessa had been partners for a while now, getting along with ease which, quite frankly, made the job that much easier. Still, he shot her a deadpanned look, setting another chair upright, “you might’ve if you weren’t late. Thought you left right after me. I had to drop off some files in archives. Roy was a dick, as usual.” The archivist at the precinct was a stickler for everything to be just so which Jacob wasn’t opposed to...except when it came to paper clip arrangement and making sure they were layered in a specific, arbitrary method that took him an additional ten minutes to do. He’d had a lot of files checked out.