Thank you to everyone for your reviews and favorites of my first one shot! I was so nervous to post, and appreciate everyone who took the time to read it and comment! It has given me the guts to post a longer story that I wrote a while back. I hope you enjoy

I do not own Divergent, all characters and snippets from that series belong to Veronica Roth.

TOBIAS

I listen to Shauna whine my name for what must be the 7th time since she's been here. "Four! Please come with us!"

She's perched on the edge of Zeke's desk, which is across from mine. Zeke is in a desk chair behind her, leaning back casually. "You've been here for how long now? 5 months? And you still haven't gone out with us once."

I sigh. I know I really should get out with my friends. There's no reason I shouldn't. Coming home to them was my reason for returning to Chicago after all. Part of me still feels like a bit of an outsider. I'm new to our intelligence unit, a unit in the Chicago Police Department.

"Where are you going?" I ask them, not in the mood for a loud club or college kid hang out.

"You guys are still convincing this guy to get out? When are you going to give up?" I hear Detective Amar Moore say from his desk in the corner.

Shauna rolls her eyes. "He'll give in to us eventually. We spent plenty of time convincing him to do shit with us in high school." She laughs as she says it, probably remembering a lot of dumb shit I tagged along for, usually led by Zeke.

"Look, it's a chill place. You can sit back, enjoy some sports on TV, just chill. It's pretty new, and Uriah is friends with the owner," Zeke offers, knowing he's describing my preferred type of place.

Uriah comes bounding up the stairs, in his street uniform, his shoes heavy on the tile floor. Uriah, being two years younger than us and Zeke's little brother, is still working the beat. Zeke made detective and floated around a couple units before making the Intelligence Unit. I, after moving to Chicago, was hired into the Intelligence Unit because of my previous work experience in Indianapolis. And it didn't hurt that Zeke gave me a good recommendation that went a long way with his Sergeant.

"Did you finally convince Four to go with us?" When he gets no real response from Shauna and Zeke, he turns towards me. "Man, come on. I promise Dauntless in a hot place."

"Dauntless, eh?" Sergeant Reynolds says as he comes out of his office. "You better be damn good customers in there."

I raise a curious eyebrow at Zeke. "Don't worry, Sergeant, Uriah's been friends with Tris for years," he explains.

Reynolds stops in his track and turns to face Uriah, surprised. "That so? What kind of friends?" I notice his tone is almost defensive, protective, like someone just said something about his daughter.

"Just friends," Uriah says, holding his hands up in defense. "We met in high school, actually. My dad, her mom, same hospital, same time." He says it with a hint of sadness in his voice, but tries to hide it with a nonchalant shrug.

Reynolds nods, and pats a hand on Uriah's shoulder. "Alright then."

"Four," I hear Moore say over to me. "You should go. It's a blue bar." He's referring to what everyone in Chicago calls bars where cops are welcomed. I've passed Dauntless, now that I think of it, and it's not far from our precinct. He looks over at Zeke and Uriah. "When you're there, you take care of that place, understood?" I see them both nod in agreement.

"Who's your friend, Uriah? Is she a cop?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. She's uh… Sergeant Prior's daughter."

I freeze. Everyone in the city of Chicago knows who Sgt. Prior is. He was the leader of the Intelligence Unit before he was killed in the line of duty. Sgt. Prior was possibly one of the most influential people in the Chicago Police Department, ever. He was known for being tough on his unit, but fair and generous to them also. A lot of good police came out from under him and moved onto higher positions in the CPD, because of what he taught them, and because his recommendation went a long way. I didn't personally know Sgt. Prior; his death had occurred before I returned to Chicago. But still, I heard story upon story about him and recently, on the anniversary of his death a couple months ago, there had been a ceremony for him that I had attended. I often heard Reynolds and Moore pass back stories or recall past cases, and they involved Prior. Prior had been with them in the academy, started out as beat cops, and was Moore's partner for years before climbing through the ranks to lead the Intelligence Unit.

"I didn't know you were friends with her in high school." It comes out for as a question than a statement, but I had never heard Zeke or Uriah mention her. "Did she go to Central?" I say, referring to the high school that Zeke, Uriah, Shauna, and I had attended.

"No, she went to South. I met her when my dad was sick, so you and Zeke were at college." I remember when Zeke's dad was declining, and it was one of the only things that got me to come home during the 8 years I spent in Indianapolis. I made a couple visits to see him, and then came back for his funeral. That was the last time I was here. "Her mom was sick, too. We both were at the hospital a lot, and we were both… ya know… struggling." He searches for his words, and I can tell his relationship with Tris was probably something that meant a lot to both of them, going through that tragedy together.

"They passed away two months apart." Uriah's voice is getting softer, probably remembering the pain both of them felt and experienced together. "We were just kids, ya know?"

I nod. "Hey man, I'm sure she-" but he cuts me off.

"Don't feed me some sympathy bullshit." I know he means it. But then his eyes twinkle. "Just get your ass to the bar tonight."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I approach the building from the outside, I see the natural, laid back look of the old brick on the outside walls. It looks like your typical Chicago building. When I enter, I find myself in a large open room. The ceiling is somewhat high and the pipes and ductwork are exposed. There's a long bar in the middle of the room lined with bar stools, and gleaming wooden tables are scattered through the room, while booths are placed along the walls. There's a few leather armchairs and a cough off to one end of the bar, with a coffee table in the middle of them. The walls look like antique, original wood, and hung throughout them are Chicago sports teams' memorabilia and souvenirs. Higher on the walls and behind the bar are multiple flat screen TVs, all showing a different channel or event.

I'm genuinely in awe of the building, so I'm paused at the door for a moment, and then I hear my name called. I turn towards the set of leather seats and the couch, and I move towards them, sinking in a seat next to Uriah, who already has a beer on the table for me.

"I had faith you'd show up," he says with a smile, and I thank him.

Uriah and Zeke are the only thing I have left that resembles family, along with their mother, Hana. I spent most of my high school years at their home, staying for dinner and often staying the night. When I left Chicago at 18 for college, I only returned home to see their parents, and when Hana came to visit, she always included me. Even when Zeke returned and I stayed in Indianapolis, Hana sent me Christmas cards, birthday gifts, and even came to visit a few times. 'My third son' she would call me. When I finally moved back to Chicago, the first words she whispered when she saw me were 'All my boys, back together.'

I take a swig of the beer and a girl who appears to fall in our age range comes over to our table. She's dressed casually, but has a small apron on her waist indicating she's a waitress. "Uri," she calls as she gets near. "Need anything?"

I see Uriah shake his head. "Nah, we're good. But hey," he waves her to come closer. "This is my friend, Four."

At Uriah's request she comes closer, her dark eyes bright with friendliness. I smile and offer a slight wave, but embrace her handshake when she offers it to me. "Christina," she says in a welcoming tone. "I work here, obviously. And I'm a friend of Uriah's."

"Is Tris here?" Uriah asks from beside me.

Christina shakes her head, than glances at the clock over by the bar. "She should be here in a half hour or so. I'll let her know you're here." She turns to get up and leave, and as she walks away she hollers over her shoulder back towards our group, "Let me know if you need anything."

Over the next half hour our group grows. Shauna, who works as a physical therapist, has invited a few of her friends and her sister, Lynn. Uriah's partner, Will, and a few other detectives from the district arrive. Some of them I recognize, but others I haven't met yet.

I move towards the bar later, prepared to buy a round of drinks for our group. I'm not sure how much longer I'll stay, but both Zeke and Uriah have bought a round, and it's only right to return the favor. I rest my forearms on the bar and I'm greeted by a new bartender, not Christina. "Hey," she says with a friendly smile. "What do you need?"

I freeze for a moment, forgetting the list of drinks I had in my head, because she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her blonde hair is pulled off her face in a messy ponytail, and her gray eyes and smile radiate happiness, friendliness. "Um… two Jack and Coke's, a Bud Light, a vodka tonic, and two Heinekens." I finally spit out. Her eyes are focused on mine as she listens to me ramble.

She smiles at me again. "Alright, just a second."

I watch her effortlessly move behind the bar, grabbing bottles without looking and pouring gracefully, then opening the beer bottles without even pausing. Her movements are fluid and I realize I've never seen someone move so naturally. Her slender limbs move effortlessly from one place to the next. She's clearly got this place memorized.

"There ya go," she says as she places the last bottle on the bar in front of me, and I pull my card out of my wallet and hand it to her.

"You can open a tab," I say suddenly. I guess I anticipate staying a while.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It's a couple hours later when I realize how long I've been here, and that I'm surprised that I'm actually having a good time being surrounded by all these people. Outings to bars weren't really enjoyable in Indianapolis. Maybe at first, when Zeke and I were enjoying our 21st birthdays, but I eventually got sick of the crowds, noises, drunken grinding. And the girls. Oh God, the drunk, throw themselves at me, girls. It was too much for me most of the time, or all of the time.

I'm passing the bar on the way back from the bathroom when I hear her voice. "You're new here," she says without doubt. When my eyes find the source of the comment, I find the blonde bartender. I barely even notice her from where she stands behind the bar, pulling bottles out of box and switching out some empty ones on the shelves. She looks comfortable, at home, behind the bar. Her outfit is simple, yet extremely flattering on her slender frame. Denim jeans hug her legs, and a loose, black tank top hangs from her shoulders, down her waist, flowing perfectly.

She doesn't stop her movement, so I'm not sure how to respond. "Yeah, I am," I say simply.

"You're a cop," she says next, again not doubting herself.

"Good guess. I'm sure you deduced that from my friends."

She looks up at me with laughter in her eyes and a smile on her face. "I guessed it, because you have cop written all over you. And, not ALL you friends are cops."

"Written all over me?"

"Honey, I've been around cops my whole life. I could pick them out of a crowd." She's not being cocky, just explaining herself to me.

I laugh. "Well yeah, I am. I work in Intelligence. Four. My name is Four."

She finally makes eye contact with me, her grey eyes staring straight into mine, and smiles largely, then sticks her hand out. "I'm Tris. Welcome to Dauntless."