INTAKE
Officer Dan Johnson sat bored behind the counter of the Precinct Three Intake Counter glancing through the People Magazine he picked up at the 7-11 on his way in. "God," he thought to himself, "This sucks." Officer Johnson didn't typically do Intake, but a lingering back injury meant he was passing his days working the night shift at the County Jail. It was a Tuesday night and the only sounds Johnson heard were the slow rhythmic ticking of the wall clock taunting him, counting off the minutes till his shift was over. Weeknights were the worst Johnson thought; at least the weekend promised the chance of a few drunk and disorderly. It wasn't even past final call, a time the action picked up as the few drunks unlucky enough to make their inebriation known to the police got a one way trip to lockup.
The boredom and soft ticking of the clock lured Johnson into a drowsy half sleep so when the station doors open he was jostled back to full consciousness. In front of him was Detective Michael Tritter half leading, half pushing a man up to the counter. Johnson knew of Tritter, the man was something of a hard ass around the station, a real reputation for not being one to fuck around with. Tritter was a heavy smoker and was trying to quit which made his attitude go from a bear to one that just got woken up from hibernation. Johnson didn't like him and was glad they typically worked opposite shift. Strange though, he thought, Tritter usually didn't work nights. Whatever this poor slob had done, it was enough to get the bear riled up. Johnson watched the man as he limped slowly towards the counter. The man's blue eyes stared straight ahead, betraying none of the emotions, but Johnson saw the man couldn't keep it all hidden. The lines in his face showed clearly the frustration and pain as he made his way slowly to the counter. The two finally made it and the man leaned into the counter the weight of his body resting on his stomach, relief washing over his features. Johnson turned back to the arresting officer
"Charge?"
"Driving under the Influence, Resisting Arrest and Possession of a narcotic."
Johnson was glad he was looking down at the paperwork, for the other man couldn't see his eyebrows rise at this last charge. Was Tritter serious? One look at the guy and you could tell this wasn't some junkie. Johnson pushed the thoughts out of his head and returned to the paperwork. He regarded the other man carefully," Okay, I got him now." Tritter took one last look at his prisoner but the man continued to stare straight ahead. As Tritter left, Johnson came around the front of the desk, took his keys out of his pocket and undid the man's left cuff," You'll still have to wear them for in processing, but this will be more comfortable," he said as he cuffed the man's hands together in the front.
"Thank you," the man's voice was barely above a whisper but Johnson could hear the relief flood in. He watched as the man placed his hand's out supporting the entire weight of his body on his hands and left leg.
"Name?"
"Gregory House"