Julian Bolaños

“You don’t make the rules, but you enforce them,” he explained, as if it was obvious, “And no, I don’t. Those probably cost money, which I don’t have. Kind of in a catch-22 situation, you know what I mean?” Jeb wasn’t even bullshitting that point - he didn’t have the money. He didn’t even think to buy one until his brother brought it up after he bought the van.

Jebediah smirked, grabbing the kettle and pouring a bottle of water into it, flicking it on before grabbing a cup. “How many sugars?” he asked, his eyebrow raised at Julian. He took a copious amount of the stuff, but he knew that everyone had their own preferences.

Julian nodded slowly, unsure why Jeb was reminding him of this fact when enforcing the law was exactly what he was in the middle of trying to accomplish. Then again, following the rules seemed to be a concept that was lost on most of the town’s people. “Seems like you’d be more interested in reaching a compromise, seeing as you don’t have much of a leg to stand on here.” He gestured towards the truck behind him. 

He hesitated when Jeb went about making the tea, not having expected him to actually follow through on the offer. “Surprise me. I’m more of a coffee guy honestly.” He admitted with a small smile.

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. 

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.  

“Technically, I’m parked here, so I ain’t blocking anything, bruv,” he shot back, a quick quirk of his eyebrow challenging him to respond. Over the course of his life, his mouth had gotten him into a lot of trouble, but it had also gotten him out of it. He was hoping this would lead to the latter, but he wasn’t completely confident in it.

“Competition is healthy,” he argued, “This town has had to deal with one coffee shop for too long. It’s not my fault that they feel threatened by me and my van. I’m not moving.” Jeb paused for a moment. “Now, would you like a cup of tea?” he said calmly, hoping the change in direction of the conversation would help. It always calmed his grandma down, so he was thinking it could make Julian switch sides.

Julian heaved a sigh of frustration when Jeb tried to argue the parking situation with him. “You know I don’t make the rules, right?” He stepped closer, reaching for the pad of paper in his pocket. “Do you have a business license?” He asked, retrieving a pen also and flipping open the pad. 

He looked up when Jeb refused to move and offered him a cup of tea instead, Julian desperate to know why no one in this town ever wanted to cooperate even when the decks were stacked against them. “Sure. I guess I’ll trade you this parking ticket for a cup of tea.” He offered, leaning against the side of the truck.

Jeb wasn’t phased in the slightest when he saw the police car pull up to his food truck, but he did cross his arms across his chest when Julian popped out and approached him. Of course he knew that it was going to be a problem - it just didn’t stop him doing it.

“How is it a problem?” he responded confidently, “I’m not blocking the entrance to their shop. I’m certainly not hurting anyone.” Jeb paused for a second, leaning over the counter towards the man, “But do you know what is hurting a lot of people? The business and lack of jobs in this town. I’m out here trying to stay out of trouble and you’re hurting my business.”

“You’re blocking their curbside parking.” Julian gestured to the limited parking in the tiny gravel lot beside the building. There were plenty of less busy shops close by that people could utilize for parking but that didn’t dismiss the coffee shop’s concerns about having direct competition parked outside their front doors.

He breathed a sigh as Jeb offered his explanation, willing to acknowledge that the other had a point even if it was unlikely to mean anything to anyone sitting behind a desk. “Look, why don’t you just park down the street? I doubt that guy from the tattoo shop is gonna care. And hipsters, right? I’m sure they like... scones.” 

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.

“It is bad, actually. It’s a travesty,” she argued, contemplating her pumpkin with a critical eye. “But whatever…we’ll claim I was going for an abstract, Picasso-esque vibe. I’ll carve an ear in the back or something.” 

Taylor turned the pumpkin and began carving what resembled a rough number 3 on the backside of the pumpkin, hoping it’d resemble an ear. “Where’s your pumpkin? And your costume, for that matter?”

Julian watched as she tried to fix the pumpkin- or at least add something that was supposed to clarify it. He wasn’t convinced that it was helping. 

“I’m working.” He shrugged, knowing that the same probably went for her. “I figured there’d be enough confusion tonight without me dressing up.” He admitted. “Heard some crazy stories about Halloweens past here- crazy enough that I’d assume they were just urban legends if I didn’t already know better.”

Bax: I'm sure you can find it on her Facebook

Bax: Yeah, the kid dressed like dead Dean Taylor. Keep an eye on him

Julian: We're not friends

Bax: Just keep an eye out for pranks. Try to keep them at a minimum

Bax: Is she sexy Monica Lewinsky again? Station her by the maze. There are fewer children there

Julian: No what

Julian: Pics or it didn't happen

Bax: It's been spiked twice already. Don't say I didn't warn you

Bax: I'm afraid that something will go wrong. Luckily, you can do something about that

Bax: Have you seen Mac?

Julian: Anything specific you want me to do about it

Julian: Yeah lol

Bax: All hands on deck tonight

Bax: Keep me updated

Bax: DON'T drink the punch

Julian: You know something we don't or

That confirmation explained why Dabria wasn’t too familiar with Julian. If he stayed here much longer, she figured he’d eventually find his way to her door. Most of the sheriff’s office did, treating her like some sort of whistleblower because she sometimes gave them something usable. It’d once gotten her a fairly pristine and mostly intact bear skull. Would Julian be like the others or did his status as an outsider mean he was more of the clean cut, do things by the book type? If it was the latter, Muddy Waters tended to sully everyone’s reputation.

“Clearly, considering you ended up here,” she returned, amusement blossoming in her stare. “How long you in for?”

“Wish I knew.” Julian admitted. He’d really hoped that the time they’d had to spend in Chicago during the evacuation would reopen some doors that might allow him to come back sooner rather than later. Instead it had seemed to only confirm that he could potentially be stuck in this purgatory forever. 

He tried to shrug off the thought, looking up at her again. “It’s not that bad though. This place kinda grows on you.”

“When you have an insect infestation, you’ll wish you’d worried about the bats.” Regardless of the chill from the impending winter months coming. Plucking another piece of popcorn from the bag, Dabria popped it into her mouth while she sized him up - mostly in response to the way he’d looked at her. She took a particular offense to people not recognizing her immediately, given the fact that she stood out rather blatantly. It was fair, she supposed, though. She couldn’t be fucked to remember what his name was, only that he was a cop and not one that had ever come to her for information. “That implies that you’d be able to catch one in the first place.” She paused. “You’re the city boy, aren’t you?” 

Something that most cops in general could agree on these days was that there just wasn’t much winning to be done. Both the system itself and individuals inside of it had soured whatever trust anyone might have put in them before, leaving the climate in a mess of us vs. them. Julian couldn’t blame anyone for feeling that way, especially when the town had just recently ousted a corrupt sheriff into a convenient early retirement. 

He knew better than to argue about his ability to catch wildlife, reminding himself that he needed to avoid getting into a pissing contest when her contempt couldn’t be personal towards him. At least, probably not. 

“That’s me.” He offered when she asked about him. “I prefer Julian, but I’m not picky.”

Bailey stared back at Julian, unimpressed and unconvinced that the man would start shooting on a busy street. But he kept his opinions to his himself, at least until he was freed. Expression twisting into a grimace, he rolled his shoulders to work out stiff muscles as he watched his new babysitter glare at him expectantly. His gaze drifted to the front doors of the motel, stomach plummeting to the ground as he imagined Jack’s anger and Lily’s lack of surprise. For a wild moment, he considered making a break for it, glancing briefly down the street before moving to stand. Even if he made it pretty far, he needed to return eventually.

“I know the way.” Bailey slowly, reluctantly lumbered past Julian with a defeated slope of his shoulders. “You don’t have to deliver me.” Ideally, he could find a way to sleep in the lobby.

Julian waited as Bailey caught up, shaking his head. “It’s a rough neighborhood. You’re too pretty to walk alone.” He countered dryly, glancing back towards the car before walking after Bailey. He had no intention of leaving Bailey until he saw that he was with someone, insisting on them both going to Bailey’s assigned room. 

It was late, and Julian didn’t know what to expect when they knocked at the door. Despite this he was still surprised when Jack answered, looking pissed off and tired. “You got this from here.” He laid a hand between Bailey’s shoulder blades and shoved him towards the other man, taking a step backwards into the hall.

Bailey did feel bad for Jack and Lily, physically sick at the thought of having to face them. His sobriety was the only thing Lily approved about him, and Jack had never been shy about voicing his objections to Bailey’s drinking. And while he’d been to enough AA meetings to know how prolific relapsing was, he was defeated by the thought of giving it all up again. Alcohol had always been the only thing to sustain him, and its hooks seemed to have sunk deeper since the last time he’d touched it.

Jerked unceremoniously out of the cruiser, Bailey didn’t bother to try and break his fall as he tumbled into a heap of limbs on the pavement. He was drunk enough that he was numb to pain, and at any other time, he would’ve been throwing hands in some dark, sweaty basement. Rolling onto his side, he grumbled irritably as he struggled to determine which of his scrapes and bruises needed the most care. “Can you get this off of me if you’re not going to arrest me?”

Julian shook his head in annoyance, crouching down beside the other to cut him loose. He stuck his finger in Bailey’s face, making no move to help him up from the pavement. “If you try to make a run for it I’ll shoot you.” He warned, more of a promise than a threat at this point.