A/N: Hello partypeople ;) 2 Weeks ago I discovered this awesome series and binged all episodes. I haven't written fanfictions for years. Especially in English. You could say I'm a bit rusty in the writing department. I promise you to improve and get back to my old form. Please give this story a chance. At least story wise. The start may seem a bit dark, but it quickly turns to a lighter tone. Have fun guys :)

Chapter 1: How it begins

A bright beam of light was making its way through the open wooden door. It had slight difficulties to cut through dark fog of smoke and dust. It smelled terribly of blood, booze and cigarettes. Sinister eyes were fixed on the intruder daring to enter their territory. The air was filled with silence. Hands already found their way to their designated (and probably illegal) weapons. Daggers and pistols were glancing in the light beam. One wrong move and too many bullets would pierce through air and flesh.

Every single eye was fixed on the stranger. He didn't belong here and they were more than happy to show him that at any given opportunity.

The young man, not older than in his early thirties, seemed unconcerned by the other guests. His expensive white suit was an extreme contrast to the darker colors preferred by the rest of the people in here. He sat straight down at the bar. His hand was running through his darker locks just to scratch his stubbly chin.

The barkeeper eyed him skeptically. "So… what's your poisen?" He eventually asked.

"Orange soda. Cold. With a straw" the stranger said in a deep and serious voice.

"Y'sure you don't wanna cup of hot milk kiddo?" the bald man asked smirking.

The stranger looked up. Just slowly. His face still dead serious. "Do I speak Italian amico? I said orange soda. Cold…. With a STRAW. NOW"

The barkeeper suddenly realized who sat in front of him. He must be one of the Iannuci clan. Of course. How could he have not thought about that sooner. The last thing he wanted was to anger Leo. Quickly he opened the tiny fridge under the bar und pulled out a can of what he believed was orange soda.

The Stranger looked at him with wide eyes. "Are you serious? That's Orangina!"

"Isn't it the same or even better?" the bald asked.

"The same? The same?! You gotta be kidding me. Orangina is not Orange soda!" the curly haired almost screamed. With a loud bang he slammed his fist one the counter, destroying a glass in the process.

"Shit that hurts" he cried holding his hand in pain. "Oh my god its bleeding. Ouch.. god I can't .." he gagged and got up from his stool and stumbled a little wobbling left and right out of the bar, leaving a dumbfounded, bald headed barkeeper behind. So much for infiltrating that bar.

A bit light headed and dizzy he made his way to his Ford Mustang looking for the first aid kit. Remembering the last training he had, he more or less took good care of the scratch. Join the FBI they said. It will be fun they said. Okay nobody actually said that but he thought things would get better once he was an agent. Undercover missions had become his specialty. He was good at it and most of the time he finished his assignments successfully. But this time was a first. A first inside the mob.

And now 6 months had gone by without any meaningful revelation. He wasn't deep enough inside the organization. Fixing computers and drinking with some low-level crooks, that's what he was good enough for in the eyes of Leo the capo of the family. He called him too soft and although he didn't like to admit it… he actually was. When he first started that assignment, he wanted to be a badass undercover mobster cop like in the movies. Scarred emotionally and physically, ready to do what he had to do. But honestly, he was glad that he hadn't had to do any of heavy lifting in the family.

He wasn't the bad boy he always wanted to be. Just a cop that always wanted to do the right thing. He sighed and wondered how much longer he had to stay in his role. After all he had private life he'd like to return back to.

A sudden knock at his window ripped him out of his thoughts. "Agent? Please come with me" an unknown man in a simple suit said. Probably his new handler he thought. He followed him to a black stretch limousine. "That's not exactly very low key…" he muttered under his breath. Who ever his new handler was seemed to have to compensate quite much.

Making sure that nobody watched or followed him he opened the car door and slipped inside. The people sitting in there were the ones he wasn't happy to see. "The vulture" He said through gritted teeth. He hated that slick and slimy bastard.

"I hate that name" the Vulture answered.

"So why do you have a Vulture on your arm tattooed then, huh?"

"None of your business Jakey boy." Pembroke smiled falsely.

"He lost a bet" A woman in the back said.

Jake turned around facing the other half of the hellish twins

"Agent Wuntch, what a time to meet here. Is it already 'wuntch time'?" he snarled, a little bit proud of his awesome line. Nobody laughed. Instead they looked him down.

"You guys have absolutely no sense of humor" Jake huffed

"Enough jabbering Peralta. We contacted you for a reason" Wuntch said sternly

"What? You didn't come to chat me up? But I'm a good conversation maker, man, guy…I know many words!"

The vulture ignored him and started to talk. "We are pulling you of the case"

"What? But I'm so close…"

"No you're not agent" Wuntch interrupted him

"Yeah you're right. I got nothing, buuuuut I found out that Dante is secretly writing Orange is the new Black fanfiction. He is obsessed with Nicky and Lorna. I'm 90% sure he is hiding some codes in the sto…"

"I have another undercover job for you. One you're better suited for" The Vulture still ignored him. "We need you back as a detective in a precinct in Brooklyn. A contact mentioned that those goofs over there are working a case that is no case." Jake looked at him confused.

"You see. I've been contacted by the honorable business man Jimmy Figgis. He told me that those Idiots at the 99 are pestering him. Thinking he is a criminal. The thing is: They are not officially working the case and our contact there is not in the 'inner circle'. We need you to infiltrate the precinct, get best friends with them and yada yada yada"

"What he means is you need to destroy any evidence those fools think they have on Figgis. Disturb the research and give us intel. Hopefully enough so we can officially end them… I mean the case" Wuntch added. "The order comes from way up the ladder. You'll start in a few days"

"Won't do" Jake shook his head. Instantly regretting it because he still felt a little dizzy from his injury. "I doubt that's an official case. And I won't help a mobster to stay out of prison. Nu'uh"

"A mobster? Oh Jakey boy. Don't be stupid. He is a business man." The vulture said.

"Pff… I've heard enough about him to know that he is dirty. Unlike you two filthy scums, I don't play that way. Ask somebody else or do it yourself. I don't care. I'm going now. Maybe filling a complaint or something." He already tried to open the door (mid drive) when Wuntch stopped him not softly.

"You're even more stupid than I thought. Do you have any idea how many in the buro are on Figgis paycheck?"

"12?" he guessed

"Arrgh, that was a rhetorical question you moron. And no. Way more than 12"

"Oh" Jake just said. His look faltering. "I still don't care. I'm gonna find someone who isn't dirty and then you'll go down" he pointed at the two.

"I don't think so Peralta" the Vulture smirked. "We already guessed you'd say no. But I have something here that might… convince you"

Jake stiffens and eventually accepts the assignment no matter how disgusted he was by himself. He had no other choice. "Why me?" he asked defeated.

"That's easy Jakey boy. Because you're a good person and we are not…"