Welcome to the world of Precinct 21, enjoy!
Everything looks so unfamiliar in the dark. Shapes take on different meanings, faces look menacing and unwelcoming. Shadows grow darker, their infinite spaces deepening. Detective Fabray often had to face this looming unknown threat every day. Switching on the light, the childlike terror of the dark dissipated almost in an instant. Replaced by the familiarity of the interior of Precinct 21, Quinn Fabray stepped confidently away from the exit of the elevator and into her comfort zone of the bullpen.
She was usually the first there, often wanting to get a headstart on the day. Taking a seat at her desk, she started up her computer – the warm, reliable glow of the screen springing to life. It was then a tall figure interrupted her predictably normal routine. A woman in a suit she didn't recognise. As Quinn reached down to her hip, her fingers hovering above her holster; the woman spoke.
'Detective Quinn Fabray I presume…?'
Quinn nodded once, confirming the tall brunette woman's suspicions. 'And you are?'
The woman stepped closer, moving from the other end of the bullpen towards Quinn. Still unsure, Quinn's fingers kept guard over her gun on her hip. 'Your new Captain. Captain Victoria Moss.' The other woman answered confidently, holding out her hand to Quinn. 'So you can lose the confused expression and withdraw your hand from your glock.'
Immediately Quinn took to her feet, shaking Captain Moss' hand firmly. 'We weren't expecting you for another week.'
A hint of a smile curved the Captain's lips, feeling the assertion in Quinn's handshake. 'Think you don't need me?'
Quinn shook her head quickly, this is not the kind of start she envisioned when she heard about the impending arrival of the new Captain. 'We're always happy to have a new pair of eyes on the team Ms. Moss.'
'Call me Captain, Detective Fabray.'
'You know my name?' Quinn asked almost dumfounded.
The Captain smiled a little more, holding back a chuckle at Quinn's unexpected naivety. 'Detective Quinn Fabray. Badge number 41189. Originally from Ohio, but made the move to Connecticut where you graduated top of your class from Yale. You trained at our Academy here in New York, but decided to move to Chicago once you were finished at the Academy, for a change of scenery. Or at least that's what you tried to make everyone believe. You started out in patrol with the Chicago PD, but jumped at the chance to join the force back here in New York once you realised how much you missed it. You knew you made the right choice when your old Captain left to pick up his nice little nest egg in the Hamptons. And then you heard they outsourced the Captain position, and you're just dying to show me what you can do. Please, correct me if I'm wrong…'
The small gap between Quinn's parted lips closed. A small smile then began to appear. 'My badge number is 41188 actually, Captain.'
Captain Moss let out the small chuckle she'd been holding in. 'Just testing you.' She checked her watch, her eyebrows furrowed together. 'Getting a headstart Detective?'
Quinn took a seat at her desk again. 'Always do Captain.'
The Captain nodded, trying to keep the sparkle out of her eyes. She was impressed – she'd heard great things about Quinn Fabray, and she was glad she wasn't disappointing so early. They'd only just met, and already she knew Detective Fabray had great potential. Just perfect for a project the Captain had in mind.
Rachel Berry woke early that morning. Even earlier than normal. The excitement of possibility positively prickled in her veins. Rachel Berry never shied away from a new challenge – and this would be no different. Making the leap from Broadway to television was something she never saw herself doing, but once she read the script she felt the overwhelming pull tugging within her. The longing to show the world something different. Although she loved the adoration, she knew she was ready for something new. Plus she knew Broadway would always be there. She knew there would always be chances to star in her favourite musicals – she'd proven her longevity in the musical theatre industry. It was television where there was always a possibility that dreams could get cut short, where networks could always change their minds, where audiences could always get bored. So she decided to take the leap.
Like clockwork, she heard a knock on her front door. The only other person who rose from slumber as early as she did. Flicking on the coffee machine and let it hum its usual magic, Rachel bounded over to the door, flinging it open.
'Right on time.' She nodded him in. 'Coffee?'
Jamie nodded sleepily, entering her apartment and closing the door carefully behind him. 'Please - I don't think I'm fully awake just yet.'
'Clearly.' Rachel replied with a chuckle as she rounded the counter to attend to the coffee machine – her morning lifeline. 'Ready for today?'
'Shouldn't I be asking you that question?' Jamie asked, occupying a seat at her kitchen counter, resting his forearms heavily against the marble top.
'Jamie, I've been booed by a live audience. Originally it was humiliating, Rachel Berry does not get booed. But then it makes you realise - anything other than that is a breeze, trust me.'
Pouring a cup for the both of them, Rachel slid the spare over the counter to her guest. Tipping a substantial amount of sugar into the black liquid, Jamie nodded a 'thank you' before taking a sip. 'I guess you have a point.' He suddenly felt a rumble next to his chest, which turned into a familiar vibration. Looking up at Rachel, he pulled his phone from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. 'Excuse me a moment.'
He took to his feet, facing away from Rachel. Straightening his spine, he answered the call confidently. 'Guillermo.'
'Are you with Ms. Berry?'
'Yes Sir.'
'Good. Is she ready to go?'
'Will be soon Sir. Are they ready for her?'
'We're just briefing them now. The building is secure – make sure you bring her in the rear entrance. We want to avoid as much of a media circus as possible.'
Jamie nodded in understanding. 'Yes Sir, we should be on our way in about half an hour.'
'Good, try to stick to that as closely as possible. If there's any delays, let me know.'
'I don't think we'll have a problem sticking to the original ETA, Sir.'
'Good. See you soon.'
'Yes Sir.' With that Jamie ended the call.
Detective Lopez slammed her palms down on the desk, looking the perpetrator directly in the eyes. 'We know you're hiding him, so you might as well just tell us now. I might even be able to get you a good deal with the DA, but you're going to have to help yourself here.'
The man sitting on the other side of the desk simply chuckled, intertwining his fingers in his lap. 'You're delusional.'
Before Detective Lopez could respond, the door of the interrogation room opened. Detective Puckerman nodded his head, gesturing at some files he was holding away from the door. 'Lopez…'
Santana pushed away from the desk with an internal sigh, leaving the room and shut the door behind her. Holding onto the door handle, she gritted her teeth in frustration. She could tell she was getting close to breaking her perp, being pulled out is the last thing she needed. 'This better be good Puckerman.'
The glimmer in his eye told her almost everything she needed to know. It was. It really was. Flipping open the manila folder, a picture of Rachel Berry sat in Puck's hands staring up at her. Santana's face crinkled in confusion.
'Puck why are you showing me Berry's headshots? I've got a major Mafia player in here if you didn't notice. I don't have time to go down memory lane with you right now.'
Puck kept his voice down, unusually low. Normally Puck commanded rooms, his cocky swagger providing a perfect distraction. But not this time. His hands were still, Santana's eyes looking at Rachel Berry's headshot carefully. Looking up, she observed the busy activity in the bullpen. The new Captain buzzing with nervous energy. And then it all twigged.
'She's the witness. Isn't she?'
'We have half an hour. You need to get that confession or you need to charge him before she arrives.'
'Does Fabray know?'
'And ruin our fun…?' The trademark glint appeared in Noah's eyes, one which Santana hadn't seen in quite some time.
Santana slapped Noah's shoulder with her free hand. 'Give me ten minutes. We'll nail this guy.'
Nodding simply in reply, he smiled at her confidence. 'Just make sure you get it right.'
Santana pressed down on the door handle. 'You just worry about the look on Fabray's face when she finds out we knew all along.'
With that, she pushed opening the door ready to crack their biggest lead on the case yet. Dumping the file in her hands down on the desk, she took a breath in. 'Alright Mr Armando, I'm going to ask you this one more time. And this time, you're going to tell me the truth. Because if you don't? You'll end up in Sing Sing, and it wont be like the good old days. All your buddies from back then, where are they now Mr Armando…? They're gone, aren't they?' She pulled out the chair by her hip, finally taking a seat. 'Do you know what they do to people like you in prison, Mr Armando? Sing Sing's different now. But you know that don't you?' Santana did her best not to smirk in front of her suspect. She knew better than that by now. Staring down the man sitting across from her, she pulled her lips into a thin tight line. Her eyes darkened with unshakable focus. 'So for the last time, Mr Armando. Where are you hiding him?'
The deep warm earthy smell filled his nose before his eyes even opened. Prizing them open, the early autumn sun glinted through the crack in the curtains, piercing his pupils. Groaning he turned away from the window, wanting to slip back into the seductive allure of the night. Instead he was met with long creamy legs, peeking out from his white shirt from the evening before. The warm glow of the sun lit up the exposed skin in front of him. The groan turned into an appreciative hum, as he reached out to touch her.
'Easy cowboy.' The woman smiled, placing the second coffee mug in her hands into his wandering palm. 'Time to wake up.'
Noah sat up against the headboard slowly, propping up the white pillows behind his back. A sip filled his mouth, trickling down his oesophagus with a filling warmth. Letting out a quietly satisfied hum, the woman next to him smiled.
'Better?'
'Getting there.' His voice croaked, warming to the prospect of the day ahead. Looking across at the woman next to him, Noah couldn't help but smile. Her light brown hair taking on a burnt amber glow in the morning light. 'Good morning, by the way.'
She chuckled, leaning over to kiss him softly. 'I think it was a good morning a few hours ago. But good morning to you too.'
Feeling more caffeine enter his body as he took more in, Noah's signature bravado began to return. Like Superman fastening his cape back around his neck. 'Got plans for lunch?'
The woman next to him took a drink, almost choking at his question. Her brows furrowed in confusion. 'I thought we didn't do plans.'
'We don't.'
'Then why now?'
Noah looked over his right shoulder, his digital alarm clock staring back at him. He sighed internally, taking a final sip of his coffee before setting it down on the wooden nightstand. 'Never mind.' Noah responded, hauling his tired body out of bed. Dragging himself into the shower, he washed off the night before and prepared himself for the day to come.
He knew he was in for another hell of a day. They finally had a solid lead which he'd managed to collar with his partner Detective Lopez. He should be feeling good, he knew that. Noah should be smiling, an extra bounce in his step as he entered the Precinct that day. Instead, he trudged his way into the dull grey elevator. He felt his holster rub uncomfortably against his hip bone, eager to remove it once he reached his desk. Taking a deep breath in, he braced himself for the moment the doors opened. He was late, and he knew he'd get chewed out for it but his early morning activities were definitely worth it.
As soon as the doors opened, a hand grabbed him pulling him through the bullpen and into the break room. 'Puckerman where the hell have you been?'
The smirk on his face was all she needed to know. 'I'm sure you can guess.'
