Disclaimer: Though I wish I did, I do not own the character of Det. G. Lynn Bishop, nor do I make any money from writing for her. Her captain in this story, however, is mine, but I still don't make any money from writing for him. Bummer.;)

OPPORTUNITY

One

Her feet pounded on the pavement as she raced down the streets of Manhattan. The little punk was going to make her work for the collar. That was fine with her. She hadn't clawed her way through the academy amongst a pack of belligerent idiots and fended off their unwanted mating calls so she could sit around and pull desk duty all her life. She had wanted to make a difference, she had wanted to prove that female cops could excel on the job too, and she had damn well wanted respect. And she was sure as hell going to get all three. Dumb punks resisting arrest not withstanding.

Two

She had already booked and processed the suspect when her cell phone rang. Stifling an irritated sigh, she answered briskly, as always:

"- Bishop.

- Lynn? Get to my office pronto, I've got a little something to run by you." Click.

As usual, her captain hadn't bothered to explain over the phone. She didn't mind that, she was a great believer in efficiency herself. What did annoy her was the old man's concept of "a little something" or rather, the lack thereof. The call could just as easily be about a pending IAB investigation or his cat's latest diet. This time she did sigh. Oh well, she mused, the interrogation was just going to have to wait.

Three

The gruff man was barking orders on the phone when Lynn knocked on his door. As he uttered a steady stream of curses at the apparently incompetent officer on the other end of the call, he waved her in and put a barren-looking file in front of her without even breaking rhythm. As she scanned the contents of the file, she calculated that her superior had thus far managed to give exactly six different suggestions to his interlocutor, all of which were a challenge to the basic rules of anatomy. Smirking, she mentally gave him points for creativity. Of course, she could afford to now, as she had been around long enough for him to quit using her as verbal target practice. Nothing personal, she knew, as he did the same with every new body in his department. Apparently, the old man considered this some sort of character test.

"And don't you forget it!" the red-faced man grunted as he slammed down the receiver, muttering about the kid being greener than a family of seasick peas. Grinning, he turned his attention to the cop sitting in front of him. Nothing green about her. As he liked to do ever since she had landed in his squad, he took a moment to admire her features. As usual, her curly flame-coloured hair struck him first, but because she was wearing a close-fitting sleeveless shirt, he took this rare opportunity to linger over the tense humming of alert muscles under smooth, creamy skin that blushed with just a hint of freckles. He still found it to be an enticing combination, but unlike most of the men under his command, he never underestimated her. He sat back in his chair, breathed in a self-satisfied sigh, and prepared to make her day.

"- So, what do you think of this little collection ?"

The "collection", a.k.a. the file, consisted of a list of a half-dozen cops, most of which were well enough known for their puppy-dog attitudes and subtle brownnosing skills.

"- Looks like your average bunch of home-coming detectives. What am I looking for ?

- Guts. Smarts. Ambition. Goddamn character. None of which these guys have.

- So?

- So? I'll tell you so. You're looking at the list of candidates for a very exclusive spot on the Manhattan Major Case Squad. It's supposed to be a temporary placement, but their captain's been known to keep his favourite temps around for as long as he can. It's one hell of an opportunity. And a crying shame if it goes to one of those idiots.

- Are they still looking?

- Yep. Which brings me to my point. I've been your boss for almost three years, now. I've seen some highly recommended men run away from me with their tail between their legs. But you, not only did you stick it out, you stood up to me and put me back in my place. You thrive in a challenge, you get the job done and you don't take any bull while you're doing it. You should think about applying. These boys ain't got nothing on you."

"Well, how about that," she thought later as she walked out of the captain's office, "underneath the bulldog bark lies genuine interest in his detectives' ambitions." He was right, she knew, this was one hell of a good opportunity. She was not about to let it slip.