Chapter 1: Something to Aspire to

(A/N: The story is back, and I'm hoping it'll be to everyone's liking. 1,500 words a chapter, like usual, to keep it organized and manageable. No, this story won't be as depressing as the last one, I promise.

Enjoy! I'll be putting actual notes in the proceeding chapters, to clear things up and expand)

A member of the Gangs Division and a trainee Detective walked down the street, arguing about matters of extreme importance. Their decisions would shape the city for years to come.

I wish.

" I can't believe you don't like it!" she said, eyes glued to the gaggle of foot traffic ahead of us. "Everyone's been writing these great reviews online, there's already talk of a movie coming up…" She glanced over at the road, filled with idling cars and folk dashing in-between cars. It was around five now- congestion was going to be a thing for a while. Breathing through my nose meant taking in car fumes and the smell of greasy food.

" Just because it's Baadacci doesn't mean I have to like it," I countered. " It was interesting the first few times- but I can't keep taking these close escapes and random girls falling for him."

Judy snorted, shaking her head, " But that all happens because he has the skills and the charisma, okay?" she tapped the side of her head, " he thinks quick, and he knows just what to say…"

We found ourselves stopped at the curb, near the bus stop. Judy leaned against the frame of the shelter, fishing in her pocket, and I stood across from her, near a huddle of sheep and weasels.

Our shift started at five- same as it had been for the past month and a half. Made it easier to complete the assignment Chief had put us on, and more time to argue before work started. Arguing about if the new book was good was better than the talks we've had the past few weeks- I'd much rather argue about a lack of reality than rights and wrongs.

The weasel next to me fished out his bus pass, clutching it in one paw while adjusting the cigarette held loosely in his mouth. I wrinkled my nose and stepped back and closer to Judy's side, trying to avoid the smoke wafting towards me.

Judy watched me back away, head tilted a little. " Did `you like the other book, at least?" she said hopefully, " The memoir? That one is realistic, at least, and the guy is a real, uh, a real hero." She sighed, "I just wish life wasn't so slow! Some of his stuff took years…"

Memoirs of a Great Detective, by some guy named Murray. The copy she had lent me was barely still bound together, and most of the pages had her notes in the corners, or stuff she highlighted. I found a note telling me to really focus on this or that part more than once.

" See, now that book-" I leaned against the inside of the bus stop, eyeing the traffic for the bus, "- is actually realistic. That guy, he bust his- uh, his behind to get where he was, and he did it by being smart and patient." I shook my head. " All those action movies, that thriller stuff, it's cool, but it's not realistic. Get me?"

" I think so," she said, glancing down at her bus pass. " But that thriller stuff- it's something to work towards, right?" She flipped over her pass, counting how many swipes she had left.

I chuckled, " You want to be the next Jack Savage, Judy? Blowing away the bad guys and stopping the big evil plot?" she frowned, and it deepened when she turned to look at me clearly.

" It's not real," she said firmly, arms crossing. I watched a car barrel down the street, wheels bumping onto the curb. " But it's something to aspire to." She smiled. " I just want you to be as cool as Jack is."

I think she expected the bus to pull up behind her just then, because she turned around with a smug look on her face and took a step towards the street. She jumped back a little when the car zoomed past the stop. I spent the next twenty minutes watching the other people in the stop argue about sports. The Loons are complete trash, apparently.

As a police officer, I've got certain duties. Keep the public safe, keep them informed, and when they get in my face and want to argue, I keep a straight face and say 'yes, sir,' 'no, sir', 'that's not something I can comment on, sir'. That's what I'm supposed to do, at least. It's a bit harder to keep those ideals in mind when you're talking down a crowd of angry parents in a cramped meeting room.

The first one up was Rufus, Larry's dad. " You promised us some sort of program for the kids weeks ago!" he said, pointing at me accusingly. " Weeks! And ain't nothing happened since you said all that! I'm sick and tired of hearing- "Judy tried to say something, but he spoke over her, waving her away. "–hearing all these stalls, already! We can't afford to keep waiting, man!"

Chief passed it down that we were to help get the families on welfare, show them what was available in the city, and keep the kids out of trouble. No more gangs, in short. Gentrify.

I put on my best smile, taking on a placating tone. " Like the Officer was saying," I said slowly, " We can't make everything magically appear, sir. We're doing our best to get some city funding over here, but you have to understand that-"

Judy spoke up again, stepping in front of me a little bit. I glanced back at the presentation we had been going over. New Opportunities Coming Soon! was a title these folk had seen more than a couple times. They might have seen through the fake cheer this time.

" The City's just trying to make sure everyone gets the right allotment," she said, smiling. " There's a lot of paperwork, and they have to account for everyone's kids, so it's a process, okay?" She glanced around at the families spread in front of us, all crammed together on the office chairs we had dug up from an apartment-turned-storage-room. By now, more than a few folk were on their phones, elbows brushing constantly and lots of attempts to scoot farther away. There were a few in the back rows arguing with each other and pointing at us. Rufus was glowering at me, arms crossed.

I nudged Judy a little bit, and thankfully she took in what I was looking at. She stiffened a bit, bit her lip, and tried to get everyone's attention. A few of the teenage rabbits looked up first, of course- everyone else took a bit longer. When Judy turned back to move the presentation forward, most of the room ducked their heads back down towards their phones.

" I worked on eleven cars today," he said earnestly, glancing over at a guy at the other end of the meeting room. " And that asshole over there wanted half the cut for working on two! What kind of messed-up crap is that?" I shifted on my feet, stifling a sigh. Standing up for three hours was getting to me.

" That is messed up," I agreed, " and I hope Brian picks up the slack, man." I saw Judy pulling away from the huddle of moms, " I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright? Take it easy."

It was about nine when we finally got out, traffic light and the moon fully out. After making more promises and talking to the same-old folk for the hundredth time that day, we headed out. Judy slowly inched the car past the scratched-up clunkers parked around us, eventually getting onto the main road. I've never gotten used to how quick a city can go from crap to pristine- we pulled away from a neighborhood full of cracked windows and boarded-up doors and ended up next to brand-new four-doors and manicured bushes in five minutes. Going from families carrying out their laundry to the coin place to a team of movers bringing in the new flat-screen is a trippy thing.

Judy didn't say anything at first, just hummed and tapped the steering wheel. It took us getting stuck at a red light for her to speak up.

" One of the moms was telling me how she has no money for food," she said softly, " That the kid doesn't have a dad and that she doesn't have any work experience…" she glanced at me, eyes glum. " Are the checks… Do you know how the welfare checks work, Nick?"

" Uh…" I scratched my neck, stretched. Last time I had gotten welfare was… four years ago? Not like she needed to know that yet, I decided. Too many questions, too much of a pity-party. I'll stick to the gang stuff, for now. " I think so? Welfare covers rent, sometimes phone and TV…" I frowned. Or was that for older folk? " But… but it does help out a good amount. Enough to at least pay the rent. I remember kids can get free school lunches…"

She frowned, shaking her head slightly. " Won't be good food, though…" she said thoughtfully, " Maybe… We can do a donation drive for the neighborhood? Or… Or is that insulting?" her brow furrowed. " We can do more Nick! I know we can!"

We've had conversations like this every day for the past two weeks. Always went the same way- she has an idea, gets worried it's not going to work, and drops it after mulling it over with me. It was still better than what happened the first month- all she did then was mope over the kids and single parents. Stress, stress, and more stress. Whole loads of fun.

" Don't get too stressed out, alright?" I shifted in my seat, stretching my legs out. " We still have to visit Miss Alcoholic." Judy sighed, shaking her head. "Hey," I told her, " she actually likes you, okay? She still forgets to offer me water."

Tabitha Géarr wasn't under arrest, but she was a part of the investigation into her husband's death. As the wife of the Secretary of Transportation, she was important enough to the case to keep under watch. Which meant we checked on her every day- instead of house arrest, we said it was for her safety. I knew she'd listen- not like she could deal with a nutso mouse on her own, and she was supposed to be grieving.

Going to see her gave me an idea, though. I think there was a way to get to these folk, and Judy might like the change of pace. Well, I'm assuming, but I am her best friend- I'll probably be right.