Kiss Bang

Halloween. 

Halloween is one of her favorite holidays. Or rather, it’s one of her favorite holidays as a civilian. As a detective? Not so much. Weird shit happened on Halloween, especially during a full moon. Luckily, it’s not, but that doesn’t mean shit won’t go down. Especially given the ongoing case she’d been assigned for the last month. Android assault against both men and women. There had been isolated incidents over the years, nothing to really note. But now... now there’s nearly a report every day.  

What in the world was affecting the Androids, now, is still a mystery. Deviants, they’re being called in the papers, online, by the general public. Androids that deviate from their protocol. There are already those suspicious since Androids first hit the streets, but now they were in an uproar on how anyone could let these “things” roam in places of business, schools, and at home. Even there, in the Bronx branch of SVU, their Android employees are being looked at with suspicion. 

If Lotte was an asshole (which she is, at least most of the time) she’d be the same, but she’s in the habit of believing that to each their own. The Androids she worked with, so far, are doing their jobs. That’s all that matters. 

Well, maybe not, because her boss, Julian informed her just the day before she would be getting a new partner for this particular case. An Android sent by CyberLife. She’s never directly worked with an Android before, not on a case, which might explain why her leg was bouncing up and down as she sat at her desk waiting. It’s a desk like any other detective had in the department, and she has a photo of her fat, moody, ginger cat, an empty mug with traces of coffee (her fourth cup that day); it’s pink with gold lettering reading “hello gorgeous” across it. She’s wearing jeans tucked into combat boots and a pretty blouse. Her badge is connected to her belt. 

She stared at the entrance to the bullpen, dark hair falling in a braid over her shoulder. How much longer until it (he? she?) was going to be there? She can’t take the anticipation. 

A bead of sweat rolls its way down from her temple, along the curve of her cheek, to her jaw. A distraction she doesn’t need, and an odd one considering the fact that the hospital is pleasantly air-conditioned. The corridor is empty, other medical workers taking cover, thankfully, when it started. Jason Miller was in distress, and while Lotte couldn’t blame him, what he was doing really was not smart. 

His wife had just been pronounced dead on the operating table after extreme trauma. Where Miller got the scalpel she has no idea, but it was currently being held to the jugular of one Doctor Sebastian Prescott, the one that was in charge of the operation. This might have been only maybe the fourth time she’s come fact to fact with the doctor, but she knows his reputation. He would have done all he could to save Ashely Miller. 

“Mister Miller. Jason. Look at me.” Her gun is drawn. She’s been awake for nearly forty-eight hours, but her aim is steady. It has to be. There is no other choice. She wanted to get both Miller and Prescott out of this alive, but if she has to make a choice, she knows who it would be. “What happened to your wife was horrible. There’s no denying that. But Doctor Prescott didn’t hurt her. He was trying to save her, but he ran out of time.”

“No!” Miller was becoming erratic, his dark eyes jumping around. The blade of the scalpel bit further into Prescott’s neck and she swore silently. “He-he could have done more. He c-could have--”

“No.” Her voice is steady. She meets Miller’s gaze, holds it. “You saw her. Let Doctor Prescott go, and I promise you, I will personally find the bastard who did this to your wife.”

lotte was never a fan of pancakes; she preferred french toast. however, after a particularly difficult case, @transergeant forced her to eat some of his homemade pancakes. it was five in the morning, they were both gross from staying up forty-eight hours straight, but he made her smile.

@o304

[   sms.   knight.   ]  :   Did  you  ever  locate  that  other  witness?  The  counselor  wants  their  statement, asap. 

despite her tiny size, lotte is quite physically capable of kicking butt and taking names. it’s because of her small stature (just 5′2″) and her line of work that she makes sure to keep physically fit and knows how to defend herself. 

open.

“ That case … ” There is exhaustion in his voice as fingers follow condensation down the side of his glass, stopping only to leave a wet print on the table. “ I’m glad it’s over. “ For them, anyway. The family involved had a long road of recovery ahead of them but the squad — they needed to move on. To heal a bit and get ready for the next thing that hit the fan.

She knows that tone of voice, has been in possession of it herself. Where it’s being more than physically tired. It’s being emotionally spent. Her glass is half empty, the rest of the bourbon waiting to burn its path down her throat. The case in question had been the first one she’d been on since transferring to the Bronx’s SVU. 

What a welcome. 

“I think we all are, boss man.” 

She doesn’t know Julian Alexander well enough to give him a nickname, not yet anyway, but there’s something about him that she liked immediately. A sense of calm in the chaos of their chosen line of work. Every squad needed that. The rock. She has a feeling it’s her Sargent who holds that role.