The Wire:
AN: I do not own The Wire, Marvels Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., or any other references I make in the remainder of this story. This is a fanfic, and this disclaimer is only going to appear once here, at the beginning.
Chapter One: A Problem and a Solution:
Hunter and Jemma
"Look Judge, I'm telling you, nothing actually gets done in this city" Lance said, his third glass of scotch in his hand, talking to his friend, Judge Masterson.
"Look Lance, me and every other judge in this city understands the predicament the Departments in. I know you guys can't pursue real cases because the public wants drugs on the table, not quality arrests. They want to see murder rates drop and clean streets, but lower arrest percentages and fewer unsolved murders. It's a broken system Lance. You were better off back in England at the Metro." Judge Eric Masterson finished, knowing he shared the opinions of the entirety of the Boston Police Department, but nothing could be done but hope the public began to have realistic expectations of their Police.
"But Eric, what if we could have a unit A real, honest to God unit that did actual police work. I know this isn't London, but we should have a unit devoted to solving major crimes. Like conspiracy, drug circles, just...everything." Lance said, finishing his drink and helping himself to another.
"Lance, that's your last drink. This was not made for mere mortals." He chuckled before continuing on, "And you have to go solve the McClintock murder. I'll see you around my old friend." the Judge said, and he left.
Lance stood there, drunk, watching as the youthful judge with long blonde hair walked away, a determination in his step. Or a problem with his eyes, as he was good and well drunk three glasses ago before even arriving to the gala to talk to his old friend.
Lance Hunter awoke the next morning, a slight hangover, and a woman in his bed he didn't recognize. But that was usual. Every night there would be a new one, and he'd love what she could provide him in his inebriated state before he woke up to the reality that he didn't love her. The intercourse had been always been good with his late night hookups, but not good enough to warrant letting her have a cup of coffee before shooing her out.
And today was no different.
"Look," Lance began, actually feigning kindness this morning, as his hangover was less severe than usual, "uhm…. I wanna say…. Katrina?" he said, and she punched im.
"It's Courtney you asshole!" she screamed at him, hitting him on his chest multiple times before smacking him on the face. He just sighed, and extended his hand to the door of his small, downtrodden apartment in Dorchester, a small area of Boston with little respect for the Law, and serious disparity in income distribution compared to other city areas, wathcing her grab her clothes and leave.
Lance could barely afford it on a detective's salary, and that was without paying anything but rent, food, and alimony to his ex-wife Bobbi.
Hunter quickly showered, got dressed, grabbed a bottle of beer and an egg, and hopped in his beater car, driving to the precinct building, downing the beer and raw egg before he pulled in.
He made his way through the dull metal doors of the precinct building, and lit a cigarette before walking to his desk, seeing his partner, the star of the department, Jemma Simmons, was already at her desk, hard at work analyzing and dissecting information from the crime scene and lab reports.
She might as well be in the lab. She's more qualified than any of them down there anyway
"Hey Jemma. Any good news, mate?" he asked sarcastically, knowing nothing new had been found, because she hadn't been waiting for him to enter to show off her find.
"I'm afraid not, sir." Jemma replied back, in her weak, scared British accent. Scared of Lances more than likely irritable mood from the bad news. He already reeked of alcohol at 9 am, but she was getting the feeling her fellow countryman wasn't a fan of tea and biscuits for breakfast. Probably more along the lines of a speedy meal.
"Well fuck Jemma! Two doctorates in Forensic Analysis and Criminal Justice and you haven't got any new info on the perp or victim? Could you literally be any bigger a waste of my time?" He responded rashly, regretting the words from his mouth, but too proud to apologize. He saw Jemma flinch, but he played it off as he took a bottle of scotch from his desk and poured it into his flask he kept in his slacks.
"I'm so sorry sir. I'll go to the lab and just ask for help. Maybe they can help my stupid self comprehend this extremely complicated and incomprehensible data." Jamma said, a bit of sarcasm hidden in her fear. Hunter just grunted as she started to get away from her drunk partner,
"Wait," Hunter started, thinking of apologizing to the young girl who had specifically asked to work with him, a famous detective back in their hometown of London, where he worked with DCI Luther before his retirement and his marriage to Bobbi. But he was a shell of the man she had heard about on the TV when she was at University. She was so excited he had moved to Boston, where she had been recruited by their Department to make progress in their crime scene analysis procedures, hiring her on as a detective to test them out properly.
But with him it had been slow going if any progress had been made. "Look Simmons… Do you think you could grab me something to eat from the vendor in the hall on your way back. It'd be wonderful." he said, knowing he'd blown the opportunity to be nice. Again.
Jemma scoffed, her feelings hurt as Lance cringed a little before drinking a full flask of scotch, and refilled his source of escape from emotions before looking at the file Jemma Simmons had expertly prepared on his desk, with a nice note on it for him.
She's so nice and she's stuck with me. I really hope I can get that transfer through to her for downtown. She'd make a good Detective Sergeant.
Lance looked up, seeing his buddy Alphonso Mackenzie, who insisted on being called Mack. But Hinter rarely cared what people wanted, And he wanted to have a laugh, already feeling the effect of the liquor in his system.
"Hey Alphonso," Hunter greeted, to an annoyed Mack who just glared at him, "Look mate. I need to make it up to uhm…. Jemma that's her name. I need to make it up to her. What does she like?" Lance asked, trying to not slur his words.
Mack scoffed at him. "I swear Hunter, if you have sex with that girl and treat her like the others, I will kill you." He glared, and Hunter threw up his hands to show he wasn't gunning for that.
"No mate. Look, I know I'm an ass to her and I wanted to apologize. She's so nice to me and I treat her like an annoyance. Know what kind of tea or food she enjoys?"
"I do. But what's in it for me to help you out?" He asked sarcastically, wanting Hunter to apologize for calling him Alphonso.
"Uhm." Lance began, before he thought of the easiest thing he can do. "I'll call you Mack from now on."
"Good enough. Alright, look. Jemma is 20 years old, and she's scared of you. Grab a notepad and take all this down…."
Jemma returned an hour later, a pack of funions in her hand as she noticed her partner was absent. On her desk was a note. A little sloppy, but it was a note.
"Dear Jemma.
Look, I have to go do something. I'll be back. Please look over what I circled in the report. I think we have a lead and I really want your confirmation. I'll be back with food and something to drink, so you're free for an hour or so. Report to the Sergeant with this finding, and then enjoy your time off."
-Lance Hunter
That was sweet…-ish Jemma thought to herself, before looking at the report, catching the circles made by Hunter in obscure patterns in the data she hadn't noticed, wondering how the drunk caught it.
She made her way to her Sergeant, and reported the findings from the data before being assigned to her desk for some R&R.
At her desk, a medium height, well built older man with brown hair in a gray suit was waiting for her at her desk, sitting in her chair.
"Excuse me, but who are you?" Jemma quietly asked, sounding more afraid than peeved or angry.
"Doctor Simmons, I'm afraid we haven't met. My name is Lieutenant Phillip Coulson, and I have with me a order for you to be relocated to my unit. You are to pack up your office and move to the Major Crimes Unit headquarters on Brookline street, about 10 minutes from Fenway. It's a small brick building with the number 13 on it. Hard to miss. I expect to see you there at 3 p.m. today, sharp." he finished, her breath knocked out of her in surprise. He got up to leave, before looking at her.
Detective Hunter hated me so much he had me reassigned. She cried a little to herself on the inside, realizing he had thrown her away like a rag. And the tears streamed down her face before she heard Coulson start talking again.
"Look Detective, you're not being reassigned based on your partner's request. He put through for you to be promoted, not removed. And besides…." Coulson paused, seeing Jemma look her head up in surprise before finishing, "I'm taking Lance Hunter with us." and with that, he left.
Jemma packed a box of her things (not many, mind you), and called Hunter on his phone. She got voicemail.
She started quietly by saying "Detective Hunter, Sir, we've been reassigned to a man named Phil Coulson in some number 13 building on Brookline by Fenway. I'm not sure what that is, but please meet me outside the precinct soon. We need to be there at 3." And hung up, sighing before sitting on the bench outside, admiring the shithole she worked in.
Lance Hunter rolled up 20 minutes later, looking tired, but with food and tea. And Jemma smiled a bit before entering his car and driving to the mysterious building for their new assignment.
Post Credits:
"Lieutenant Coulson, a Judge has informed me he wants a unit made to prosecute Major Crimes occurring here in Boston. Not to be bogged down by the bullshit quotas murder, vice, patrol, and traffic are. You will have a crack team of specialists. Some are misfits. Some are disciplinary issues. But you will fix them. I have a list for you Phil. All of them will help you. All of them are the best, brightest, and most useful from every aspect. You will be a self contained unit, answering to me and Captain Hand. Am I understood?"
"Yes sir, Commissioner Fury."
"Heres your list." Fury said, handing a piece of paper to Coulson, dismissing him.
Detective Hunter, Lance
Detective Simmons, Jemma, PhD.
SWAT Ward, Grant
Analyst Johnson, Daisy
Analyst Fitz, Leopold, PhD.
Desk Sergeant May, Melinda
Sergeant Morse, Barbara
Detective Mackenzie, Alphonso
Officer Triplett, Antoine
Officer Koeing, Eric
Analyst Koenig, Sam