summary ; the universe maybe doesnt hate jean as much as he thought it did, he thinks, bumping into you with too much in his hands.
warnings ; not proofread. HEAVY YEARNER jean
a/n ; i had a lot of fun writing this :3 ive been so extremely stressed lately and i wrote this as a break on the metro ONCE and genuinely got into a flow state. anyway, i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it.
if you saw me posting this before, no you didnt. tumblr is being so weird.
taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @jeanscremebrulee , @mrsnobodynobody , @hopeless-anti-romantic-again , @berrijam , @happxme , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @raazberry , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @gojo-ana , @ppushable , @zombiefiedskeivy , @candleofhappiness , @alt—er—love , @1ovede1uxe , @sevriizy , @toscapaeron , @whoevenisjessica , @simone-tb , @mrsryuguji , @bxsmxx , @mxhemmings-l , @jazfartz2
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★ CHAPTER ONE ★
middle tile art creds ; @/yuka_levi on twitter!
The universe hates Jean.
The line to Sina Bakery was abnormally long. And Jean would know, being a regular with his guilty indulgence - he'd rather take a bullet to his head than admit that he liked the sweet iced mocha, especially to Sasha - especially during lunch hour.
Sina stood to be a tiny-ish bakery tucked away in the quieter street down the block from the precinct, and proved itself as Jean’s favourite place to go. At least once a week, he'd catch himself almost drooling over their flaky pastries and sweet drinks as a stark contrast to his green juice which, yes, he definitely likes because it makes him feel healthy.
his hands fidget with the lint in his jacket pocket as he waits in the line that now extends beyond him, with only two people before him. He needs a win this day, especially after the week he's had.
First, he's slacking on the amount of cases he'd solved as compared to Eren. The whiteboard held the proof of his sore losses, the black ink becoming a menacing presence that Jean couldn't blink without seeing. Second, his alarm has stopped working, making Captain Ackerman squint at him with disappointment clear in his steely eyes, Sasha and Connie snickering in the background as he got a talking-to in the office. Then there was…. the pretty stranger. The taste of the hot chocolate still coated his tongue, and he was well aware that it was incredibly weird of him to miss the smell of an apartment that he had been to only once in his life.
And then, lastly, the thing that occurred this morning. God, Jean shudders as he recalls it.
Sasha had bet him, childishly, saying she could eat his lunch in less than three minutes. Jean liked to think he was a decent cook, giving his mother her due credit for his albeit limited skills, and he liked to pack at least two lunchboxes just in case he was planning on staying in the precinct till late.
He was so certain she couldn't finish it in three minutes.
What a barbarian. She completely demolished his lunches in two minutes and fourty-three seconds.
Which is why it seemed like the entire universe was against him this week.
“Oh, hey Mr. Kirstein!” Falco greeted, a pleased smile gracing his face. Jean had gotten used to seeing him and his friends even more over their spring break; the fact that the kid remembered him was only a testament to the amount of times he visited this place.
“hey, Falco. how's it going?” he asked, a small smile curving his mouth involuntarily. Falco reminded him of Marco - always trying to keep the peace, always the best communicator of the bunch.
The kid shrugged as a loud crash sounded at the back, followed by a frustrated grunt. A small, muttered “sorry,” echoed in the silence, and Gabi hunched over the shot of espresso that now lay spilled over the counter.
Falco turned back to Jean, painting a nervous smile on himself. “hah, can't complain,”
the familiarity of it all made jean almost want to laugh. “i think you should,” he mutters, “she’s kinda like Yeager,”
Thankfully, Falco finds this a little funny, his shoulders shaking with a small laugh. “that says alot about me. anyway, should I put in the usual today?”
jean chooses not to ponder on the former part of that statement. “actually, do you guys have two dozen donuts?”
that makes Falco pause, eyes widening a fraction either by surprise or by disbelief. “two dozen?”
jean nods, pursing his lips together without choice. not only did he now not have any lunch, he was spending money for the bet that he lost.
the kid hums in consideration, turning his head over his shoulder to call out to gabi. “do we have two dozen donuts in the back?”
“I'll…go check,” she says, heaving a sigh as she finishes cleaning the marbled counter.
only about fifteen minutes later, Jean's hands are now heavier with two boxes of assorted donuts, a cup of iced mocha balanced on top of the lid, his wallet significantly lighter.
tossing a loud “thank you!” to Falco and gabi, jean makes his way out of the bakery, balancing the donuts in one arm, the other hand holding his coffee to his mouth, barely noticing the fast approaching body in front of him.
before jean had a moment to relax and enjoy the cool mocha, the wind was knocked out of his lungs, half his drink spilling onto the stranger, and, god, now the sleeve of his jacket was wet.
“watch where yo-” “I'm so, so sorry,” the warm familiarity of your voice makes him snap his mouth shut, his rapidly increasing annoyance quickly diminishing to nothing.
he felt like he was in a stupid romcom. not that he'd know, he doesn't watch that many, much to Connie’s dismay, but with the wind whipping his hair away from his forehead, kissing his cheeks with redness that he wished would leave immediately made him feel like the cameras were on him, catching his fluster by the throat, he felt like he was living in a cliche with cameras pointed directly at him.
“Detective Kirstein.” you speak, and he watches the softness of your lips pull apart and together to spell his name. Such little effort that still made jean want to legally change his first name to Detective.
He mumbles your name sheepishly, his hand still dripping with the residual coffee. “Good to see you again,”
“Im so sorry, i was barely watching where i was going- let me make it up to you,” you said, looking at his stained arm. Thankfully, wearing a leather jacket had somewhat protected him; he could just wipe off the residue and then send it to the dry cleaners. He’d received the jacket as a birthday gift from his sister as soon as jean graduated from the academy and it soon became a part of his daily uniform, and the fact that your hand was now touching it was sending shivers down his spine more than the coolness of the drink.
“There's… no need, really-” “-come on, i wasted your 6 bucks,” you cut him off, and if this was anyone else, he’d argue more. If this was anyone else, he would've grumbled at them to pay attention for bumping into him and went on about his day, but no, it was you, and selfishly, he wanted to spend more time with you.
“If you insist.” he conceded with a soft smile, taking you up on your invitation without an ounce of remorse. The universe’s apology for a shitty week came to him with a casual smile and a light blue sweater, now dabbing off the coffee with a cloth, holding his left hand with a gentleness that he’d never felt before.
“Y’know,” you spoke, making him look into your eyes. He wondered if you knew that you were still holding onto his hand. “I didnt know that the stereotype was true.”
Jean tilts his head in confusion. “Stereotype?”
“Youre carrying two entire boxes of donuts… as a cop.” you point out, head nodding towards the boxes, forgetting that he was carrying them in his right arm, gripping them into reality.
He breathes out a laugh, shoulders shaking softly.
“Hey, in my defense, these arent for me.” he says, shrugging, an easy smile on his lips.
“Oh? Who are they for, then?” you push, brows shooting up; not with curiosity, but with challenge.
Oh, jean liked you.
“Theyre for my friend. We had this stupid bet where i didnt think she could finish my lunchboxes - two of them, by the way, and full portions - in less than three minutes,” you smirked knowingly, as if you were in on it. “I guess it was my bad that I underestimated her. She finished it with seventeen seconds to spare and gloat.” his annoyance was warranted, yet his voice still held the affection he couldnt shake off for his friend.
You hummed, “sounds like she came prepared.”
He scoffed, “i dont doubt that. She eats in a way that gets me scared of her ending up in the hospital.”
“And yet you dared her,”
“Hey,” he says, tone defensive. His smile never slips, however, “that was more of a rhetorical question than a challenge. She told me, i can finish those boxes in like two seconds,” his voice pitches up almost comically, trying his best to impersonate his best friend. You laugh without constraint as he continues, making him smile wider in the process, a little proud, “and i said, i dont think you can, and then bam, before i knew it, eren and connie - my other coworker, were recording her and timing her.”
“Truly traumatizing,” you say, laughter softening.
“The worst ive ever faced in my career.” he says, earning himself another laugh. Youre still holding onto his hand and he wonders if he can feel his pulse beating under his skin, if you can sense it going in sync with the sound of your laugh. “Come on, lets head back in, i’ll buy you another iced… whatever that was.” you say. Your voice makes it sound like its not even a command - which it’s decidedly not - but the gentle tilt of your head makes him think he’d follow you anywhere youd ask him to.
Describing the situation later was not easy.
Sasha almost demanded an explanation for why her donuts were cold and late, why he left for the bakery almost an hour before and returned with a brighter mood and a small smile.
Connie made kissing noises from his seat as they huddled next to jean (without his consent, he’d like to point out), marco joining from his desk as well. The rest remained seated at their own places, but he knew their ears were peeled for the latest - and probably only - update on jean’s non-saucy, non-descriptive love life.
“Thats it, she just… bought me a black coffee,” he said, lying straight through his teeth. Marco smiled earnestly, but sasha rolled her eyes. “Bullshit. There has to be more.” “was this a date?” connie asked, his elbows leaning on the back of his chair as he sat backwards on the worn-out cushions.
“There isnt more, and even if there was, i-” jean says, eyeing the rest of his coworkers suspiciously. Eren was tilting a little too much towards jean from his seat, armin glancing back to his work, and reiner unashamed about his public eavesdropping. Jean shifted closer into his huddle, mumbling, “i wouldnt say it here. And it wasnt a date, connie,”
“But you like her.”
The pause before jean's answer sealed his fate more than any word he could utter. “No,” another blatant lie, one which he knew none of them would buy as they leaned back into their chairs almost simultaneously.
“HA!” eren’s voice was loud and mocking, and he now made no attempts to cover up his own nosiness, the rest of the bullpen now suddenly finding themselves near jean’s desk. Before jean could even argue, however, eren continued his mocking.
“You shouldve seen the guys face when we met her! He was all moon-eyed and he couldnt even ask her basic questions.” he boasted, a laugh punctuating the end of his statement.
“I was not moon eyed-” “-oh my god, i can so see that!” sasha speaks, followed by an infuriating “jeanboy's in looooooveee” by connie.
“Im not-”
“impressive as hell, kirstein” reiner says, nodding his head to god knows what. “How is it impressive?” marco says, and to jean’s surprise, he finds himself a little offended at that question.
“I dont know, finding love in this landscape-” reiner starts. “like, politically?” armin asks, followed by a, “no, i think he means sexually.” by eren.
Everyone falls silent at that, chairs creaking as all of them turn to eren’s mumble.
He looks up from his paper, noticing the eyes on him. Glancing at reiner, almost shrinking in his seat, he says, “no i mean… because your last crush was… yknow,”
“A lesbian,” mikasa uses her rare words to describe the Sergeant's situation. It seemed to be all the speak last month, with reiner never shutting up about his crush on historia, the pretty blonde with a stolen - and very expensive - purse.
Reiner cleared his throat. “Whatever,” he muttered, turning back around to his desk.
“How do you know she's not a lesbian?” marco asks, leaning his weight on his left arm, elbow resting on the bent plastic of his chair.
“No!” sasha exclaims before jean can even try to think about his question.
There’s another pause in the precinct. Sasha defends herself with a anxious laugh, “i mean, she clearly seems to be reciprocating,”
“Yeah, she wouldn't have asked to buy you a coffee otherwise!” connie says, uncharacteristically nervous, jean and marco glancing at each other with suspicion. Reiner - now standing against his desk, arms crossed over his chest, looks just as suspicious as the other two. “Is that wishful thinking or are you just that desperate for jean to get a girlfriend?”
“Hey!” jean did not appreciate his love-life being put on full blast without his consent. “For the record, i dont think she’s a lesbian either-” “-is what reiner thought too-” “-fuck off, yeager. But i agree with connie. She wouldnt have offered to buy me black coffee otherwise.”
“Kirstein, Yeager, what’s the update on the Hoffmann murder?” Captain Ackerman’s voice booms across the precinct, cold and demanding. Connie rolls back to his desk, struggling to scoot his body back to facing his desk. Jean and Eren stand up, backs straight, faces serious.
“We have a lead,” eren says, beating jean to it.
From his spot near his cabin door, Captain Ackerman nods. “Come into my office to discuss it. And kirstein?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Stop pretending you drink black coffee.”
“...yes, sir,”
Everyone snickers.
The universe still hates jean, he thinks. But your smile flashes into his mind, a gentle sway of his heart following it. Maybe the universe doesnt hate him too much.
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Summary : (y/n) (l/n) wasn’t quite used to being a member of a precinct that actually cared about each other. She had been at the 99th precinct for almost a year, yet she still found herself keeping her co-workers at arms-length. She wanted to feel comfortable and open up, she just wasn’t sure how.
For someone who made a lot of embarrassing decisions, Percy Jackson hated the feeling of humiliation. But him and his big mouth somehow managed to get into a very public argument with his new coworker-slash-secret-crush, which ended in a very intense bet. If (y/n) made more felony arrests than he did, then she got his car. But if he made more felony arrests than her, he got to take (y/n) out on a date. And while he was glad to finally have a reason to talk to this absolutely gorgeous social recluse, it also meant that he finally had to go above and beyond at his job.
. : 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊
“This job is eating me alive. I can’t breathe anymore. I spent all these years trying to be the good guy, the man in the white hat. I’m not becoming like them, I am them.”
“Jackson, what the hell are you doing?”
The dark haired man looked up to find his detective partner, (y/n) (l/n), watching him with a mixture of annoyance and confusion on her face. In her hands, she held a small notebook and a pen.
“I’m doing the best speech from Donnie Brasco,” Percy informed her, before turning to look at the camera that projected his face onto the many televisions behind him, “Or, actually… Ten of me are doing the best speech from Donnie Brasco.”
“Can you get it together?” (y/n) asked. Out of everyone in the whole precinct, she was one of the few people who didn’t at least somewhat enjoy his shenanigans. Turning back to the store owner, she continued reading from her notebook, “So the store was robbed about two hours ago. They took mostly tablets, laptops, and cameras-“
She stopped talking when the sound of ‘80s hip-hop music began blaring from behind her, and she turned around to give Percy a blank stare.
“Sorry,” he said, and quickly pressed the power button of the electric keyboard to turn off the music.
(y/n) let out a deep sigh before turning back to the store owner, “I’d like a list of all your employees. Whoever had access to the store. I’d also like to apologize for my partner, his parents didn’t give him enough attention growing up.”
“Excuse me, Detective,” despite the dig at him, Percy had a smile on his face as he addressed (y/n), “I’ve already solved the case.”
(y/n)’s arms dropped to her side, and her impatient expression encouraged Percy to continue.
“We’re looking for three white males, one of whom has sleeve tats on both arms.”
“And how do you know that?” (y/n)’s voice was more tired than anything as she made her way over to her partner.
“I had an informant on the inside,” Percy’s voice was dead serious, “He’s been here for years. Watching, learning, waiting.”
A moment of silence hung in the air as (y/n) waited for the punchline.
“His code name?” Percy took a few steps backward before reaching over one of the shelves to reveal a stuffed animal, “Fuzzy cuddle bear. He’s a nanny cam!”
Percy flipped the bear over quickly before his partner could say anything.
“You got lucky,” (y/n) scoffed, shaking her head.
“No, I got here five minutes before you and figured that in this gigantic electronics store, there had to be at least one working camera,” Percy shot back, taking the chip out of the nanny cam and inserting it into the projector. The televisions behind them showed the robbers, one of them perfectly fitting Percy’s previous description, “Hi, bad guys!”
He picked up the teddy bear again, looking into it’s eyes, “You did it, Fuzzy. You busted ‘em. It’s time to come home.”
“I’m not sure if I can,” Percy lifted the teddy higher, pretending to voice it, and (y/n) rolled her eyes, “I’ve been undercover so long, I’ve forgotten who I am. I have seen terrible things. I haven’t known the touch of a woman in many moons.”
As Percy voices the teddy bear, it got increasingly closer to (y/n)’s face.
“All right,” she said, turning and walking away.
“Detective (l/n)!” the bear, aka Percy, cried, “Don’t walk away from me!”
If there was one thing (y/n) hated, it was losing. And at this very moment, as she sat in the briefing room and looked upon the whiteboard in front of her, she could feel the taste of defeat beginning to seep in.
“Yes, I did crack the case,” Percy Jackson announced from his seat across from her. For once he sat upright in his chair, his body turned to face her as he smirked, “(l/n). would you care to do the honors?”
Feeling the entire room turned to look at her, (y/n) sighed and pushed herself out of her chair. Once at the whiteboard, she erased the number 23 below Percy’s name.
“Yeah, and you’re just gonna wanna add one,” Percy called, as she wrote down the number 24 in very small handwriting.
“I hate this,” (y/n) muttered, mostly to herself as the rest of the room let out whoops, claps, and various cheers. The number under her name was stuck at 22, meaning that Percy remained in the lead.
“And I’m winning!” he exclaimed, “It’s a good feeling.”
As (y/n) turned to go back to her seat, the rest of the room burst out into applause. Her eyes fell on Percy’s green one’s. The large grin on his face provoked the smallest smile from (y/n), and she quickly rolled her eyes to cover it up.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she said.
“Oh, I will,” he shot back, moving to rest his legs on the table in front of him before she turned around to the front where one of their sergeants, Jason Grace, was taking the stand.
“Alright,” the tall, blond man cleared his throat before addressing the precinct, “PJ, any update on the Morgenthau murder?”
“Yeah!” Percy stood from his seat, running a hand through his dark hair, “Good news for all you murder fans.”
He brought out a few laughs as he made his way to the front to show off a presentation.
“Earlier this morning, someone decided to shoot and kill luxury food importer Henry Morgenthau. Body was found by the cleaning lady. During her interview, I deduced using expert detective work that she had something super gross on her chin.”
The room groaned at the photo he provided.
“I think it was flan,” Percy’s best friend, Grover Underwood, said after sipping his coffee.
“Grover thinks it’s flan, I think it was butterscotch pudding.”
“It could just be old person gunk,” Clarisse La Rue spoke up, her feet still propped up on the table in front of her despite the numerous requests to remove them, “You know how old people always have that gunk on them?”
“Oldie gunk,” Percy pointed at her, “Could be, yeah. Anyone else?”
“How about we focus on the murder, Jackson? And not the old person gunk?” Jason suggested, patiently.
“Crime techs are at the scene now,” (y/n) spoke up, “We’re heading back when they’re done.”
“Okay, I want you two on this,” Jason emphasized, “This is gonna be priority one for the new C.O.”
“Wait, tell us about the new captain,” Clarisse said.
“Captain Ramírez will be here soon. She’ll want to introduce herself,” he told them, “Dismissed.”
“I think it’s so cool that we’re going to have a female captain,” Hazel Levesque spoke up.
“You know what’s even cooler?” Leo Valdez asked her, “That she’s hispanic.”
That sparked a debate about whether being a woman or being Hispanic made their new Captain more of a minority. The rest of the precinct decided to mind their own business, and tend to their other tasks.
The arrival of the new captain was rather inconvenient, as Percy and Leo, the only two detectives who were not allowed to be left together due to their lack of rational thinking, had been left together and somehow managed to catch an almost full garbage can on fire. In a poor attempt to put the fire out, they had knocked it over and sent burning garbage all over the floor.
“Where the hell is the fire extinguisher?” Frank Zhang, the precinct’s other sergeant, asked frantically. A silent woman handed it to him, “Thank you!”
After the fire had been successfully put out, it took Frank a minute or so to notice that the entire precinct was silently staring behind him. Turning around, he found himself face-to-face with a rather tall, stern looking woman with a very official police badge.
“Captain Ramírez!” Frank exclaimed, and Jason quickly made his way over, taking care not to step on the charred mess on the floor.
“I’m so sorry you had to see that, Captain Ramírez,” the blond man stuck out his hand, “I can assure you that this sort of thing does not usually happen at the 99!”
“Why’s he lying?” Leo whispered, earning a smile from Percy and a shushing noise from (y/n).
“Captain Ramírez-Arellano,” was all the olive skinned woman said.
“I’m sorry?” Grace asked, lowering his hand.
“That is my name. Captain Ramírez-Arellano. I have two last names, I would appreciate for them to be used.”
“I’m sorry, Captain, I wasn’t aware of that,” Jason reacted much quicker than Zhang, “Thank you for correcting us.”
She nodded once in acknowledgment, before turning her attention to the silent detectives.
“Everyone,” she began, poise and elegant like a copper statue, “I am your new commanding officer, Captain Reyna Ramírez-Arellano. I trust that you adults can handle yourselves for a few minutes while I have a word with your sergeants?”
She received a few nods, while the rest of the precinct remained too nervous to move.
“Gentlemen,” she gestured for them to follow her as she walked to her office.
“Yes ma’am,” they said in unison, quickly following behind.
The detectives waited until the door closed to begin speaking.
“I think I’m in love,” Piper McLean spoke up, earning a few nods.
“I love her attitude,” Annabeth Chase, Percy’s other best friend, agreed.
“Is anyone else picking up a gay vibe?” Nico di Angelo, the precinct’s civilian administrator, asked. The room fell silent as everyone gave him a weird look.
“How the hell did you idiots manage to light a whole trash can on fire?” (y/n) asked, turning to Percy and Leo.
The pair shot each other grins, before shaking their heads.
“It was an experiment,” was all Leo said. They refused to explain any further.
In the Captain’s office, Reyna placed her name tag on the desk.
“Sergeant Grace, it’s nice to meet you. Sergeant Zhang, you were with me in the 1-8. Though… you were significantly…..” The captain chose her words carefully.
“Fatter, ma’am,” Frank said, “Yes, I go to a gym now.”
“Good for you,” Reyna’s tone was not at all sarcastic as she stood and walked towards the window, “Sergeants, tell me about your detective squad.”
A moment of silence hung in the air as the two men tried to figure out what to say.
“Hazel Levesque is my fiancée,” Frank spoke up, and the trio’s eyes fell to the dark skinned woman, who was diligently typing away at her computer, “We’ve been cleared and everything, so there’s nothing to worry about. She works hard, she does things by the book, overall she’s very good at her job. But we try to keep her out of the interrogation room.”
“Can she not handle it?” Reyna’s tone was almost surprised.
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason held back a smile.
“You know I’m not mad at you, I just want to hear the truth,” Hazel leaned back in her chair almost too casually as her eyes scanned the face of the man in front of her.
Leo Valdez sat, confused as to why he had been dragged to the interrogation room, “Yeah, I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know that idiot act works on everyone else, but it’s not going to work on me,” the dark skinned woman sat up, her golden eyes burning holes into Leo’s brown ones, “You ate my pie. Admit it.”
“What? Hazel, no I didn’t-“
“You’re lying!” the Latino flinched at the volume increase as Hazel shouted and jumped up, slamming her hands on the metal table between them , “I know you did!”
“Hazel, sweetie, what the hell is going on?” the detectives turned to find Piper McLean had entered the room, “Also, beat it. I need to interrogate my perp.”
“Nico di Angelo, our civilian administrator,” Grace began, nodding to the desk outside the captain’s office. The young man he was referring to, however, remained in the huddled group of off-task detectives, no doubt whispering about what was currently happening behind closed doors, “He’s…scary. But he’s the guy you want sending awkward emails or confronting a lawyer. He is a college student, so this is kind of a part-time job for him, but he does it well. He only really got the job because he grew up with Percy, Annabeth, and Grover.”
“Nico, you managed to get eight at-risk kids to sign up for the Junior Police Program,” Jason said as he and Clarisse approached the young man lounging behind his desk, “How the hell did you do it?”
Nico looked up from his phone, “Oh, I just told them some crap about how they need to have passion for something in their lives. And when that didn’t work I told them about how much cops get paid, how they never have to stop at a red light, and get to carry a gun.”
“How did you know that would work?” Jason asked.
“That’s what made me sign up,” Nico shrugged.
“You did this program?” For once, Clarisse sounded surprised as she looked upon Nico’s shaggy black hair, silver skull rings, dark baggy clothing, and various chains.
“Yeah. It does not work.”
“While Nico is scary in the ‘caffeine withdrawal slash emo teenager’ kind of way, Clarisse La Rue is scary in the ‘I’m gonna pull you into a dark alley and beat you up’ kind of way,” Frank continued, his eyes falling on the curly haired woman, who was currently staring daggers into someone across the room, “She’s not the best at managing her anger, or doing her paperwork. She’s tough, smart, and very athletic.”
Clarisse had just arrived back at the precinct after a trial where she testified against a perp she had arrested. Hazel and Frank applauded almost genuinely as Clarisse spread her arms and did a mock bow.
“La Rue, you did it,” Frank congratulated, “They found him guilty on all charges.”
“Huh,” Clarisse smiled for once, “Hazel’s advice worked.”
She threw a light punch at the woman’s shoulder, who laughed in return.
“So where was your happy place?” Hazel asked, referring to the trick she suggested to keep her temper in check.
“I’m in a cabin in the middle of nowhere,” Clarisse began, “Inside it’s just me and that stupid, slimy defense attorney. And I’m beating the hell out of him. I break a dining room table over his head. Then I rip off his arm and shove it where the sun don't shine. Then I reach down his throat and shake his hand.”
Frank and Hazel looked at each other, speechless.
“Yeah, okay!” Frank finally said after he collected his thoughts, “I’m going to go ahead and schedule you for a psych eval!”
“Piper McLean can either be your best friend, or your worst enemy,” Grace continued, and the attention turned to the almond skinned woman wearing a snowboarding jacket who was whispering with Nico, “she grew up really well off, but once she turned 18 she decided to make her own money. She’s a very hard worker, but she can be a little…uneducated in certain aspects of life.”
It was around noon when the entire precinct was startled by the sound of an explosion.
A startled scream directed everyone’s attention over to the microwave, which had caught on fire. Piper McLean stood a few feet away, frozen in shock.
“Piper, use the fire extinguisher!” Annabeth called from the other side of the room.
“I don’t know how to!”
Grover, who was in close proximity, grabbed the extinguisher and successfully put out the fire.
“What the hell happened?” Clarisse asked, and everyone else began muttering their own questions.
“I don’t know, I-“
Grover opened the charred microwave to reveal a fork. At the sight of it, everyone let out an annoyed sigh.
“Did you put this in there?” he asked.
“Was I not supposed to? I’m sorry, I can replace it-“
Sergeant Grace and Sergeant Zhang exchanged looks.
“We need to schedule a ‘precinct safety’ meeting,” Jason muttered, and Frank nodded.
“Leo Valdez is going to be the reason I have a heart attack,” Frank Zhang sighed and nodded to the curly-haired Latino who stood in the center of the Off-Task unit, “I love the kid, but he’s insane. Somehow he manages to light everything on fire. But work-wise, he’s surprisingly efficient. He had a really rough childhood. His mom died and he was homeless for a while. Obviously that kind of stuff is still going to effect you later in life, so we try to cut him some slack if he’s having a hard time.”
“Hey, are you doing okay?” (y/n) quietly asked as she approached Leo at his desk. She had been watching him for a while, and his unexplained shift in personality was beginning to worry her. The precinct was having one of its rare quiet days, where all the extroverts were out chasing leads.
“Hm?” Leo looked up from his computer monitor, which had turned off ten minutes ago, “What? Oh, yeah, no, I’m fine.”
“Something about saying “yeah, no,” makes me think you’re not fine,” (y/n) said, a small smile on her face, “Do you want to talk about anything?”
Leo was silent for a moment, before he sighed.
“Ah,” he began picking at the zipper of his open jacket, “Today’s kind of the anniversary of my mom dying.”
“Oh,” (y/n) didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry’ didn’t sound good enough.
“And I just-“ Leo stopped himself, pausing to look out the window. (y/n) was pretty sure he was blinking back tears, so she awkwardly turned her head for a moment to give him some privacy, “I’m just having a hard time focusing. Literally all I have to do is finish this stupid report. I was supposed to be done an hour ago, I’m not even halfway done.”
“I can do it,” (y/n) said after a moment of silence.
Leo turned to look at her, almost confused, “What? No, (l/n), you don’t have to do my report, I-“
“No, I can do it. I fly through reports. And this way you can get started on something else,” she nodded to the sticky notes tapped to the bottom of his monitor with an overwhelming to-do list.
Leo’s eyes scanned (y/n)’s face for a moment. She stuck her hand out, and Leo eventually handed her the file.
“Thank you,” he said, quietly, and she gave him a small nod.
“Grover Underwood is a member of what we higher-ups call the trio. It’s composed of him, Annabeth, and Percy, since they grew up together. Out of the three of them, Grover is the only one I would trust with my car keys,” Grace said, and the attention went towards the brown skinned man whispering to a blonde woman, “He’s a sweet kid, he loves animals, and bless the Lord, he has a sense of reason.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Grover Underwood made a show of announcing as he walked into the precinct, earning everyone’s attention, “Six banks robbed in three weeks, $250,000 stolen, citizens trembling in fear. Well, no more.”
“You got your bank robber!” Jason exclaimed.
“Went home last night, no overtime, just me and some brie. And I cracked it. So, here he is. The thug that’s been terrorizing the city. Say hello, Marvin.”
“Hello,” everyone’s smiles faded as they turned their attention to an eighty year old man with a blue scarf.
“Oh my Gods, he’s so old,” Hazel exclaimed, voicing what everyone else was thinking.
“He’s not that old!” Grover insisted, his own attitude dropping at the unexpected reaction, “his nurse isn’t even full time!”
“Annabeth Chase is scary in the ‘I know a hundred ways to kill you and even more ways to hide your body’ kind of way,” Frank continued, nodding to the blonde who was nodding to whatever Grover was whispering, “She’s the smartest person you know, until she’s around Percy and Grover. She can either be the biggest overachiever, or the biggest slacker. It really depends on the week.”
When Annabeth Chase sat down at her desk with a large cup of coffee, Grover, her desk partner, paused his conversation with Clarisse. The two detectives silently watched the blonde woman as she impatiently waited for her computer to turn on.
“What?” Annabeth asked as she finally noticed their eyes, her voice containing a slight rasp to it.
“Nothing,” the glance shared between Grover and Clarisse revealed the lie.
Annabeth’s eyes narrowed, expectantly.
“You just look a little…tired, Annabeth,” Grover made sure to keep his voice light as he referred to the dark circles under her eyes, “Did you sleep alright?”
“I didn’t sleep at all, actually,” Annabeth blinked, her focus off in the distance, “I got off work late and went home. I started playing Minecraft, and got distracted with building the city of New York. Before I knew it, it was time for me to come back and I still hadn’t finished my work.”
“Did you finish the city?” Grover’s casual tone let Clarisse know this wasn’t an uncommon occurance.
“Almost,” she rubbed her eyes, “I just need to put in the sidewalks and figure out how to make cars.”
The other two detectives watched silently as the blonde chugged her coffee.
“I’m still behind on my paperwork,” she muttered.
Reyna’s attention fell to one of the desks outside the group of people, where (y/n) sat, halfheartedly attempting to type up a report. ‘Attempting’ being the key word, because Percy was making things difficult as he leaned on her desk while he went on about something in the hopes of earning her attention.
“Tell me about them,” Reyna nodded in their direction, and the sergeants exchanged knowing looks.
“(y/n) (l/n) is our newest detective. She’s been here almost a year, and, well…” Frank trailed off, “All we really know is that she’s reserved, smart, and very hard to read.”
“She’s brilliant, but she has a hard time letting people in. Stubborn too,” Jason added, “she and Jackson have some big bet over who gets more arrests this year. Ever since the bet, their numbers have gone way up.”
“Hey, how did you know that woman?” Percy asked his partner as he drove the police car back to the precinct.
“Hm?” (y/n) looked up from the case file she was studying. Percy glanced over to find her watching him, “Keep your eyes on the road, Jackson.”
“They are!” he insisted, “And I asked how you knew the woman we spoke to.”
“Oh,” (y/n) seemed to hold back a smile, “I made her wedding cakes back when I had a baking business.”
“I didn’t know you owned a business!” Percy’s eyes were wide, and his tone was full of surprise, “Or that you could bake.”
“I only did it to put myself through college. It was fun, but I don’t really have time for it anymore,” (y/n) shrugged, “I was really good at it, though.”
“You know, my birthday’s in a few months,” Percy shot her a quick smile. Then his expression faltered, and he was silent for a moment, “Wait a minute, did you say wedding cakes, plural?”
“Percy, watch the fucking road!”
“Tell me about Jackson,” Reyna said.
Jason let out a long sigh, “Percy Jackson may just be our best detective. He loves putting away bad guys and solving puzzles. The only puzzle he hasn’t solved is how to grow up.”
“That was very well put,” Reyna noted.
“We’ve both spoken a lot about Percy in our departmentally mandated therapy sessions,” Frank muttered.
“You busted through a window for no reason?” Jason Grace asked, his hands massaging his temple.
“Basic police tactic, Sarge,” Percy said, as if it should’ve been obvious, “Cover every exit.”
“It was a sealed window on the fifth floor,” Jason lifted his head to squint at the dark haired detective, “You could’ve just gone through the door with Grover.”
“Yeah, but then what would my catchphrase have been? “Knock knock, who’s there? Justice?”” Percy stopped talking, taking a moment to think, “Wait, that's actually amazing.”
Jason walked away, shaking his head as he muttered something about paperwork.
“We’ve also noticed he seems to have a strange fixation on trying to get (y/n) to open up,” Jason commented, “So if they’re not working on a case together, they need to be as far away from each other as possible, otherwise no work will get done.”
“Aren’t their desks right next to each other?” Reyna asked.
“That’s the problem we’ve run into as well,” Frank nodded, “And these detectives are weirdly attached with their desks.”
Reyna was silent for a moment, “Thank you, sergeants, you may be dismissed. Please send di Angelo in.”
“Yes ma’am.”
A few moments later there was a knock at the door, “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, Nico, have a seat,” Reyna gestured to the chair in front of her desk.
She waited until the young adult was comfortable before she spoke again, her eyes trained beyond her window, “Tell me about the bet between (l/n) and Jackson.”
Nico blinked, almost surprised at the question.
“Oh. Well, it started a few months ago. I’m not really sure what they were arguing about, but it ended in Percy insisting he could do his job better than her. So the deal is if (l/n) gets more felony arrests, Percy has to give her his car. It’s an old Mustang, it’s pretty sick. But if he gets more arrests, she has to go on a date with him,” Reyna’s lips twitched up at Nico’s words, “He guarantees it will end in sex, but honestly the rest of the precinct seems to think (y/n)’s got this in the bag.”
“And what do you think?” the captain asked, shifting her gaze to the young man in front of her as she leaned back in her chair ever so slightly.
Nico glanced towards the door to ensure it was closed before answering, “Honestly? It depends on how much he wants that date. He has a tremendous amount of potential, he just needs something to put it towards. On the other hand, I don’t know shit about (y/n). She gets her work done, and kind of keeps to herself. That girl could be a secret undercover crime lord or something, and none of us would know until it’s too late.”
“I get your point,” Reyna nodded, “Thank you, you may go.”
When the new captain was finally left alone in her office, she allowed herself to recline in her chair, her eyes still on the pair of detectives.
At this point, (y/n) had given up on writing her report. Her arms crossed in front of her, yet she had the slightest smile on her face as she looked up at Percy. He was still talking about God-knows-what, and anyone watching could tell it was a one-sided conversation. The way that he slowly inched closer to her, and the way that she nodded along with his words let Reyna know that while she may be in for more than she signed up for, this was going to be hella interesting.
authors note
the first chapter is done! if you can’t tell, y/n is still warming up to her precinct, and I’m excited to see where this goes because we all know the characters I write kinda do their own thing
thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this!
taglist!
@itzmeme @simpingmyassoff @sukimiya
please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list :))
I need more AU for these two, and Sanji is definitely a Boyle lmao
It’s hard to imagine « realistic » features when the Live Action is now a real thing and the actors are like, *amazing*
But I tried and it was very fun, a break from my day to day routine, you know, kiddo’s hitting terrible two and I’m screaming head hidden in the fridge. ✨
Bonus : Full sketch versions ↓ + a Nami portrait to do her justice because i spent way to much time on Zoro’s face here
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Wille is back at the precinct, proud to have caught the suspect redhanded. He was working with Detective Simon, his long-term rival and not-so-recent crush. It has been an interesting evening for him.
It was never the right time for them. There was this stupid bet he came up with last year about who could make the most arrests, and he won, but at what cost? He took Simon on the worst date possible as a prank, but it turned out he wished it was a real date at the end of the night. He has been obsessed with him forever now.
He told him about his feelings before he went undercover for six months but Simon was in a relationship with somebody else. When he came back, he hoped that Simon had already broken up with his boyfriend but he wasn’t that lucky. Their relationship was still on, and Wille tried to move on. So he went on a few dates, and one of them turned out good. She was a nice girl, but after a short time, Simon was single again.
And then his relationship didn’t last long either, because apparently everybody, including his girlfriend, could tell he was still thinking about Simon. How could he not when Simon told them he also had feelings for Wille for some time? Wille was already in a relationship and it was good. It just wasn’t enough.
So here he is, back at the precinct after he kissed Simon not once but twice during the operation. They were watching the suspect closely, and they had to pretend to be a couple not to tank the whole mission. First, there was a sweet cheek kiss in the restaurant, and Wille was feeling the so-called butterflies in his stomach. He is a grown man, and this was the first time he was feeling like that. Then he kissed Simon when the suspect saw them in front of the bathroom of the restaurant where Simon and Wille were following the lead and then finally outside, behind the bushes, where the exchange between the criminals was happening just before they arrested the perps they were looking for for quite a long time.
He fills out his forms, gets the paper work done, and goes into the evidence room, where he finds Simon. Does Simon think this is nothing? What does Wille do now? Can he play it cool? He can, right? Who is he kidding? He never, not once, played it cool in front of Simon.
“Hey,” Simon says softly, and Wille stands in front of him. He needs to say something, give a response, or anything, but his mind is blank. Except for one thing.
He surges forward to catch Simon’s lips in a rushed kiss. This is not like the other two kisses they shared earlier. This is sweet and tender but also hurried because they both have been waiting for this moment for some time. Wille wraps a hand around Simon’s waist and moves his other hand upward, running it on Simon’s back. Simon relieves a happy sigh into the kiss. He kisses and kisses and kisses him without any intention to stop any time soon. Simon crosses his wrists behind Wille’s neck and gets in his space more, gluing his body to Wille’s and Wille licks into his mouth, which gets another pleased sigh from Simon.
When they finally break apart, Simon has the audacity to look surprised at him. The corners of Wille's mouth turn upwards slowly, and Simon kisses him first this time. Wille already lost count of the kisses, but he is sure this is gonna be happening a lot in the future.
