A/N: This story was started as a way for me to manage the stress and nonsense of being a police officer. It takes place in an alternate universe in which most of the characters did not know each other growing up. The exceptions are the best friend pairs of Arnold/Gerald and Helga/Phoebe. As such the characters are in their mid-twenties or so and may be somewhat out of character. Arnold and Helga are used as representations of the two competing thought processes many cops deal with when answering calls. On the one hand, you have the idealist that wants to go out and save the world. On the other you have the cynical realist that understands how the world works and that almost everyone a cop talks to is lying. The notes at the end of a chapter will indicate when a chapter is based on a real incident that I have dealt with myself or have direct knowledge of. The story starts in 2015.

I'm aware that the show was supposedly set in the Pacific Northwest. I do not live there and do not know the laws there, so the names of laws and the procedures will reflect the state in which I actually work.

This story is rated M. There is violence, death, suicide, drug abuse, etc. Although I don't go into graphic detail in many cases, the reader is warned. The real world isn't pretty.

I do not own Hey Arnold or any characters. Although I steal some story elements from the show, the majority of these stories are my own.

The First Day, pt 1

August 24, 0615

Arnold Shortman tucked his uniform shirt in for the twentieth time that morning. He was anxious as he stood in front of the County Public Safety building, steeling himself to enter. He fingered his keys nervously with his right hand. He had his gun belt and equipment bag over his left shoulder as he stared at the employee entrance.

"Man, will you relax. We're gonna be fine." His friend and fellow rookie, Gerald Johanssen, nudged him with his elbow. They had grown up in the city of Hillwood together, attended school together, gone to the academy together. They had both tried and failed to gain sponsorship through the Hillwood City Police Department. They had both quickly discovered that even a simple sponsorship required political connections. They didn't have the pull to get in through HCPD, but Arnold's Grandpa Phil somehow knew the Hillwood County Sheriff. He had pulled some strings to get them sponsored and into the academy. And now here they stood.

Arnold took a deep breath. "I guess we'd better go inside before we're late, huh?"

"Arnold, our shift doesn't start for another 45 minutes."

Arnold shrugged. "No better time than the present."

Arnold stuck his hand out for their secret handshake, which Gerald returned with a smile. "We got this."

Shouldering their equipment, they proceeded through the security door and into the building. They had both been given an orientation the week before so they knew the basic layout of the building. Walking into the main administration hallway, they could see the offices of the brass lining both side. To their immediate right was the doorway to the road room. They would have to walk through there, past the on-coming and off-going shifts to get to the locker room.

Arnold supposed he hadn't been entirely sure what he expected when he entered the room, but it definitely wasn't what he actually saw. On the right side of the room were three desks, each with a computer. Along the right wall was a large rack of forms and templates for their reports. Along the far wall was the patrol weapons locker, a stack of defibrillators, and the copy machine. The left wall had two bulletin boards with patrol information, special detail sign ups, and log books as well as the doorway to the booking room.

And standing in the middle of the room were two people wearing camouflage uniforms and swinging machetes.

Both rookies stopped short. The two machete wielding lunatics looked up. The taller of the two was an enormous woman with brownish hair and a thick unibrow. Her face was devoid of expression. She was imposing and mildly terrifying. The name tape on her uniform read "P. Smith." The other subject was perhaps even more unsettling. Although he was shorter, he was clearly well built. He wore glasses with thick, black rims, had a badly executed high and tight haircut that looked as though he did it himself, and he sported a smile that could best be described as psychotic. His uniform said "T. Gammelthorpe."

Arnold broke himself free of the bizarre scene and introduced himself. "Hey, I'm Arnold Shortman. This is my friend Gerald Johanssen. It's our first day." He extended a hand toward the two. Smith raised an eyebrow and didn't move. Gammelthorpe snorted and walked out of the room toward the locker rooms, twirling his machete. Arnold nervously brought his hand back to his side. The awkward silence was thankfully brief as the door behind Arnold and Gerald opened behind them.

"Ah, my new Deputies! Welcome!" The two rookies turned to face the voice. They looked into the kindly face of Lieutenant Simmons. He quickly reached out shook their hands. "I'm happy to see you both arrived early. Please, go get your equipment on and meet me in my office. We'll get your training assignments sorted out."

The two deputies walked into the locker room and finished getting ready. Other deputies were moving in and out but most of them ignored the two new officers that were meekly putting their clothing in their lockers. They got a few nods here and there, but no one approached them to talk to them. They quickly left and returned to the Lieutenant's office.

Although "office" was perhaps a generous term. This looks like a repurposed closet, Arnold thought to himself. There was barely enough room in the office for Simmons' desk and two chairs, but Simmons didn't seem to mind. He smiled broadly at both men as he handed them both enormous binders. "Gentlemen, these are your training manuals. You will keep these with you throughout your entire field training experience. It has all of the paperwork you need, and you will add the daily and weekly training assessment forms from your training officers. Do not lose them." Arnold and Gerald looked down at the binders, then at each other. "Now, you will each meet individually with Captain Wartz before going to initial training assignments. Deputy Shortman, you will be assigned to the Civil Division for the first 3 weeks. Deputy Johanssen, you will be assigned to communications to learn dispatch. I'm very excited for both of you as you begin this new career. Now, Deputy Shortman, please report to the Captain for your briefing."

Simmons stood from behind his tiny desk and shook both their hands and dismissed them. They both exited the office back into the administration hallway.

"What the hell is in this thing?" Gerald said, hefting the binder.

"I don't know Gerald. And I guess we're just going to be making it heavier. Do you remember how long they said we had to be on field training?"

Gerald groaned. "Four months. That's going to be a lot of daily sheets."

"We'll get through it Gerald."

The two walked down to the Captain's office. Captain Wartz had the door open so Arnold knocked gently on the door jamb. The Captain looked up from his paperwork. "Come in, come in. Deputy…Shortman. Please, shut the door behind you." Arnold entered, shutting the door and leaving Gerald in the hallway.

"Deputy Shortman, I've been going over your record from the academy. I see you had high academic marks across the board. 2nd in your class. Quite good."

"Thank you, Sir," Arnold replied. He smiled. He had been pretty proud of his record in the academy.

"You were also a Squad Leader, I see. Also good. High marks in defensive tactics. However, I've spoken to some of your instructors and I have to be perfectly honest, I don't believe you can do this job."

Arnold's smile disappeared. What? "Sir?"

Captain Wartz set down the paperwork. "You displayed a distinct aversion to using force in your scenario-based training, even in situations where it was both legally and ethically appropriate. You need to know there are some situations that must be handled with force and can't be resolved simply with words. Your life and the lives of your fellow officers and the public may depend on the appropriate use of force."

"Yes sir, but I believe in exhausting all options before laying my hands on someone." Arnold had a lump in his throat. I haven't even spent a day on the job and he's already judging me?

Wartz peered over the top of his reading glasses at Arnold with a skeptical look. "Well, we'll see. You have three weeks of civil training and three weeks in communications before you even hit road patrol. Think long and hard about whether or not you will do what you need to in order to protect your coworkers and the public."

"Yes sir."

"Alright, report to the Civil Division 1st Sergeant and he'll get you started. You're dismissed. Send in Deputy Johanssen on your way out." Wartz took out another folder and dismissed Arnold with a wave of the hand. This day was not quite going the way Arnold had expected already.

A/N: That is similar to my conversation with a Sergeant on the first day. Although I was middle of the road in defensive tactics and first in academics. And the crazy SWAT guys with machetes really did happen my first day. Please feel free to ask questions in reviews or by PM.