Disclaimers: None of the SVU characters of mine, except for Michelle Mendicez. References to other shows are meant as a crossover, but nothing heavy.
Author's Note: I realize that you might not like Michelle Mendicez being this this story, but I hope that you don't find her to be a Mary Sue. I've never had any complaints about her being one in any of my other stories, but, you never know, right? Reviews are greatly appreciated, and graciously accepted!
The squad room was jumping that morning, alive with laughter at the prospect of the days quickly approaching festivities; it was the Christmas Eve, and there was a huge party planned for the evening. Everyone was looking forward to it, and no one had turned down his or her invitation.
Elliot was talking with Fin about how much of a fight he had had to put up in order to get Kathy and the kids to come. Although Elizabeth and Kathleen loved the idea, Dickie didn't, for some unknown reason, and Kathy rarely ever wanted anything to do with anyone that her husband worked with. Finally, however, Kathy had given in to the idea of getting out this Chrsitmas Eve, and, who knew? Maybe she would actually have a little fun. Fin had a good laugh about it, thanking a higher power that he didn't have to go through the drama of "the wife and kids".
John, the workaholic, was hunched over his work, which consisted of an unsolved murder case from 1995. He was, for some reason, determined to link the case to several other, more recent murders on the Upper East Side. The Unit had since put the guy responsible for the more recent killings securely, or so they all hoped, behind bars. "God bless DNA," John had thought to himself the day that the lab tests had come back with a positive match of the fluids at the crime scene to the blood of Ryan Kelner. If they hadn't put the guy away, John was convinced that he would have gone out of his mind.
"John, it's Christmas Eve," came a feminine voice, "and the guy is already in there for life." John looked up from his work, and saw, standing before him, the only face that he hadn't seen that morning. It was the new Detective, Michelle Mendicez, on loan from the Farmington District of Los Angeles, California. She had a cup of coffee in her hand, which had been stretched out toward toward John. He took the cup, and gave a quick smile.
"I know," he sighed. "I just want to make sure that we didn't miss anything."
Michelle's first response was reaching out her hand, and flipping the file before John shut. "You've been at that file for three weeks. Every chance you get, you look at that file. You read it. You study it. Hell, I'll bet you can recite most of it from memory by now." She looked at him, knowing that the kind of strain that John was putting on himself mentally was not good; her last partner had done just that, and was now laying in a cemetery. Michelle just didn't want to see that happen to John.
John just nodded. "Yeah, well, this sick son of a bitch had better not get out on any technicality, or I will be all too happy to oblige him a death sentence, courtesy of yours truly."
"I wouldn't doubt it," Michelle frowned. She looked around the squad room, trying to locate several people; she found Olivia by the coffee pot, right where she had left her, talking with Alex Cabot. Someone had obviously said, or done, something funny, because the two were almost on the floor, rolling with laughter. Her sights quickly shifted to her right, where Cragen was talking with Dr. Huang. She couldn't make out just what they were saying, but she knew it involved a recent case.
"You going to that party tonight?" Michelle was startled by John's voice, coming from his seat beside where she stood. It took a minute for his question to register in her head.
"Uh," she stammered. "Yeah, I am. Sounded like fun. That's enough for me. How about you?"
John shrugged. "Don't have a reason to, but, I suppose that I might as well." He turned his head back to the stack of files that sat on his desk. He hoped that he could snag one from the pile, right off the top, without Michelle noticing it; she would have a fit if she caught him doing any more work, especially today. John had never put stock in the holidays, Christmas especially. To him, holidays and festivities were just another way for the government to force it's way into your piggy bank, plain and simple.
As he slid the top folder off of the pile, silently, Michelle caught his moevements out of the corner of her eye.
"Put the damn work away, John!" she laughed, slamming her hand down on the file. "It's Christmas Eve! The snow is falling, and Christmas is in the air."
"All I smell Santa Clause, burning his shorts on my previously lit fireplace, as he attempts to get his fat ass down my chimney," John quipped, as he slapped on a grin.
Michelle was ready with a come back. "One, Santa doesn't wear shorts. He wears pants."
"Shows how little I really care about it."
"And two," she continued, "you live in a New York apartment building, John. You're lucky to have heat this time of the year, let alone a chimney!"
John shrugged again. He didn't really care much that it was the time of year to be overcome with joy. All he wanted to was to make it home alive, so that he could wake up the next morning, and begin fearing for his life all over again, not go gallavanting off into the night, laughing and joking around, and having fun. That just wasn't his usual Christmas Eve.
"What the hell," he began. "I guess that the routine that I call Christmas could come to a hault this one year."
"That's the spirit," Michelle encouraged, as she turned to walk back to Olivia and Alex, but not before playfully patting John on the head.
John just sat there, as he felt her hand on his head. There was nothing more irritating to him than being patted on the head like a little puppy. He caught Michelle's laughter at the look on his face. It was amazing; he could hear her all the way over from the coffee pot. He raised an eyebrow, as he stared in her direction. She quickly looked away, apparently not wanting John to see that she was laughing at him.
"Too late for that," John thought to himself, as he continued to stare. Thinking back on the last few months, since Michelle had arrived, John considered how far they all had come. On her first day, Michelle had made some pretty big mistakes, as far as New York City was concerned. She acted like she was still in Los Angeles, as part of the Strike Team, or whatever it was down there. She hadn't seemed to care about police brutality, he remembered, thinking about the first case that she had worked with them.
A six year old girl had gone missing, and Michelle had whacked the first and only suspect at the time with the back of her handgun. Cragen had chewed her out for it, saying that this was neither the place nor time for any "Gestapo tactics" that she may have picked up and found necessary to use in L.A. John had agreed with that one thing, that it wasn't the time to be assaulting the bad guys, not while little Evelyn was still missing.
They eventually found the girl, by a tip that Elliot and Olivia had followed up on. Some creep had her and three other little girls tied up in his basement. The guy had run them all over God's creation, until Fin had finally cornered and, eventually, tackled him. It had just been one of those cases where the L.A. street tactics were not of any use to the SVU.
John really didn't like Michelle at that point; she had rubbed him the wrong way from the start, being just too showy and out there for a cop. He knew that he wsn't the only one who wasn't fond of the brunette; she and Elliot had gotten into more than one minour conflict over trivial things, but neither would ever give into the idea that maybe, just maybe, the other person was right. Sometimes, he was right, and sometimes she was right. The fact that they argued over anything and everything really got at Cragen, too. He said that he wasn't going to put up with two of his detectives always being at each others' throats. John found it all very funny, at times, but knew that there was no place for their bickering to be appreciated in the work place.
While she did have some problems fitting in, she wasn't completely bad. The one thing about her that John did appreciate was her dedication to what she did. While she didn't put in the long, endless hours of paperwork that John did, Michelle was completely driven to get her job done, and get it done right. It wasn't a rare quality in those that he worked with, not by any means, but it was still one of those things that he picked up on and respected.
However, as the months went by, Michelle had settled down a bit, quite a bit, and things had begun to run a little more smoothly for everyone. John had come to give the new detective credit for her abilities as a cop, and a detective, not just dwelling on what she did wrong. Now, six months later, everyone seemed to be getting along rather well, so very strange for them, especially on a holiday.
John was snapped out of his mid day banter of thoughts, by the unmistakable sound of feminine laughter. He looked back up at the three by the coffee pot, and noticed that they were all looking and laughing in his general direction.
"What's so funny?" John asked, a little irritated. He continued to watch, as Alex reached behind her for something, her laughter never ceasing. She walked over to John's desk, and held out a napkin for him. Pointing to his mouth, Alex almost began to choke on her laughter.
"Next time, John, watch what you chew on!" She turned, and went back to Olivia and Michelle, who were also still in heavy contentment, apparently having a good laugh at his expense. He brought the napikin up to where Alex had been pointing, and swiped it across his mouth. When he brought it back down, he saw a stain of black. The pen that he didn't even know he had been chewing on had exploded, and the ink had gotten all over the place.
"Oh, sh -," John began, but stopped himself, realizing that everyone in the squad room was looking in his direction. He got up out of his chair, and headed for the bathroom to wash the ink out of his mouth. It was going to be a long rest of the day, no doubt full of jokes and people mimicking his situation, trying to get a laugh or two out of him. Well, it was Christmas Eve, and jokes were just not on his list of things to accept today. It was the season of giving, not accepting, and anyone planning to humiliate him further would be getting a surprise; John would be getting into the spirit of giving, and be giving anyone who tried anything a swift kick in the ass.
Authors Note: Well, that was one long chapter for me! I've never written anything that long before! Now, I look forward to reviews, which will decide whether or not I post the rest of the chapters. If you like it, I will continue. If not, well, you'll have to visit my website to read the rest!