A Challenger Appears
Author's Note: Ah, Police Academy. The cult series that brings a bout of nostalgia and many, many happy childhood memories concerning it (except number seven, that abomination was the only one that made me want the movie to end even as a child). I loved all the characters, my favourite being Zed, but over time I started appreciating Harris more, especially when he has a badass actor playing him! Now that reruns are shown for the umpteenth time in Serbia on TV, I was inspired to write this fic. Harris and Callahan have a very enigmatic relationship between them. They barely interact and yet Harris seems to respect her, despite his bigoted views and the fact that her rank is beneath his. Heck, she's pretty much the only person in the academy whom he honestly respects or makes sarcastic comments about behind their back (not even Lassard has that privilege). So I decided to have my take on the origins of their relationship to understand this phenomenon.
I tried to keep them both in character, but bear in mind that this is happening in the past when they are much younger and therefore their personalities are a bit different. Callahan is disciplined and strict, yet has a bit of the youthful brazenness that I imagine a strong woman like her to possess. I can see her finding loopholes to the glass ceilings of her time and going against conventional expectations of becoming a lady. Harris retains his sarcasm and cruel nature yet I envision him to be much more respectful to his superiors and eager to prove his worth as a younger man (as in the series he started off rather competent with best intentions for the academy progressing into being completely unreliable and a bit of a joke). I hope that you enjoy the story and I tried to include some humorous moments as it threatened to become pretty serious - for how can you have Police Academy without comedy?
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me and neither does any of material from the Police Academy series.
"Needless to say, I am very, very pleased to offer you the position at our fine academy."
The stoic expression of Officer Debbie Callahan was betrayed by the slight swell of her chest with pride and the upward tug at the corner of her lips.
"Thank you, Commandant Lassard. You can be rest assured that I will not disappoint you."
A sharp rap at the door.
"Come in," called out Commandant Lassard, whose gentle face melted into an even bigger smile when he saw who came in, "Ah, Sergeant Harris, perfect timing."
A man in his late twenties and with an air of slight arrogance strode in and closed the door behind him. Below average male height yet far from being physically puny and weak, he immediately wiped away any expression of such smugness when face-to-face with his superior.
"You called me, Commandant Lassard?" he asked, his voice rough but respectful.
"Indeed, Sergeant Harris. I am very, very pleased to say that we have found your co-instructor who will assist you in the day-to-day running of the D-Squadron."
Harris' well-formed lips turned up into an appreciative smile. "That most certainly is great news. When will I get to meet our newcomer?"
"Why, right now in this very room!"
Harris twisted around wearing a confused expression. He spotted Callahan for the first time and gave her a nod of acknowledgement without really looking at her, "Good day Ma'am," and then turned back to the Commandant, "Sir, is he waiting outside? Because I didn't see anyone when I was coming over here - "
"Sergeant Harris, I'd like you to meet Officer Deborah Callahan, who has filled the position of being your assistant." Announced Commandant Lassard amiably, gesturing to her, "You should know her, after all, she was one of the first cadets you personally trained."
The smile slid off Harris' face and he swerved his head to look at her properly. Was that the... tomboy? His mouth opened slightly in shock and indignation as his dark eyes narrowed and nostrils slightly flared on his uncharacteristically snub nose that contrasted with his prying nature. He turned back to Commandant Lassard, leaned in and said in a lower voice, "But, that's a woman, Sir."
Callahan steeled her jaw behind him.
"And a fine, fine woman she is, Sergeant Harris!" replied Lassard cheerfully, "You remember that she was one of our top cadets despite the male competition and that even you wrote her recommendation to the police precinct where she was working in the past year."
"Did I?"asked Harris in genuine surprise, as he had written recommendations for many of the graduates that he could not keep track of. He looked back at Callahan and noticed that some hostility was appearing on her face. Now that she was his subordinate it was time to put her in her place. Harris grinned and said, "Did they kick you out of there?"
"I was assigned to a desk job and prevented from going on location." replied Callahan coolly, maintaining her calm, "I believe that the conservative mindset of my superiors was a waste of my skills."
Ah yes, her male superiors. Although this was 1972, few upstanding male citizens lightly went ahead with the sexual revolution and permit women to be exposed to the dangers of police work.
"And how old are you?" asked Harris.
"Twenty-three, Sir."
"Not got much experience, have you?" retorted Harris scathingly before he could stop himself from letting such question flow out of his mouth. He could not permit himself to appear so insecure in front of the commander.
Callahan sensed his insecurity and tried to smile confidently, "I wouldn't have gained much experience had I continued working in my precinct. I believe that I can gain much more experience by training cadets and learning from you as my superior."
Harris was impressed by her statement of loyalty, so unlike many wishy-washy women nowadays. Twenty-three, she said? He was only five years older than her.
"My, my, what a driven new addition to our staff we have gained," claimed Lassard heartily, "I am sure you will make us proud. Now, I am aware that you already know our campus grounds, but I will let Sergeant Harris here give you another tour and brief you on your duties for the upcoming academic year. I am confident that you two will make a great team."
He sat back down and dismissed them. Soon afterwards, Callahan and Harris found themselves standing outside Commandant Lassard's office. Harris snapped his attention back to her and dropped the civil act.
"Don't expect me to go easy on you, girl." He threatened, lowering his voice, "You have quite a responsibility on yourself and I will not tolerate you being an embarrassment to me or the academy. Is that clear?"
"Crystal, sir." said Callahan, her voice crisp and back rigid.
"You better."
He slammed his hat back on his head and referred back to Callahan without sparing a glance in her direction, "Hopefully this academy will not become a laughing stock for hiring a female instructor and that my squadron does not sink any lower. With me training you, you should know by now that I expect nothing but the best and that you grill those cadets to create fine police officers."
He looked irritably back up at her and snapped, "Don't just stand there. Move it! Move it!"
Callahan immediately started following him to where he was taking her - instructors' corridors, cadet dorms and the food hall. The academy was serenely abandoned for the summer and the sweet heady scent of black locust wafted through the warm air. They finally stepped outside on the grounds when Harris finally asked her, "What made you even want to become a police officer in the first place?"
"My father is a military man and the men in my mother's family were all in the police. Being an only child, my father was proud that I went for the program when it was opened to women that year."
"So you tried to be the son he never had," retorted Harris, shaking his head in disbelief, "What year was that again?"
"1970, Sir."
"Yes, yes, two years ago," said Harris quickly, not allowing himself to look like a fool in front of her as he remembered that she was employed for only a year, "The year that was supposed to change everything. Gender equality and all that crap for entering the new decade."
"Changed my life."
Harris looked back at her. "What did you do before that?"
"I originally went to university to study Politics - a course that also lacked women," added Callahan, her confident smile back on her face, "but once this program opened I knew my life's calling and left university for it. Mother was upset, father got over it and became proud."
"Couldn't just be a normal girl, huh?" grunted Harris, gazing around the campus leisurely.
"I like the discipline and order." Retorted Callahan, impatience slowly seeping into her voice, "Traits that you and I seem to share."
Harris detected the change in tone and immediately felt that he had to remind her to whom she was talking to, "Don't get fresh with me girl. You shall listen to what I tell you and obey my orders, no matter how big of a load you have to swallow." Harris paused, realizing the unintended pun and in his slightly flustered state looked down and his eyes met her chest. Did her bosom grow every year? Catching himself at his next mistake he looked back up at her, his face slightly red. Callahan did not look amused.
"Let's keep going," he muttered, quickening his stride. Callahan followed silently in step with his as they went past the immaculately mowed lawns of the main building.
Damn female. He wouldn't have to deal with any of this had it not been for the moronic program that year. The year of 1970.
Late summer, 1970.
"My name is Major Henry Hurst, and I will be the head of your squadron. D-Squadron has the reputation of being the most challenging squadron in the academy, and we accept the only the most promising of candidates. So well done on receiving a place here."
Tall and lean, Major Hurst gazed over his new recruits and he would have been proud, had his view not been marred by the sight of females that dotted the squadron. His face changed into a sour expression, and his mouth wrinkled up as if he had sucked on a lemon.
"As you know, this year marks the beginning of a new era for the academy, where we will receive finer recruits and also be more open toward new opportunities. You have noticed that we now have some female cadets in our ranks, all part of an experiment that we hope shall come to positive fruition." He said the word 'experiment' with some distaste.
"This would unfortunately be my final year at the academy, so I expect you to not disappoint me. My co-instructor here, Sergeant Thaddeus Harris, will be assisting me in training you and will eventually overtake most of my duties by the time that the 14 weeks are up.
"Sergeant Harris, you may inspect the cadets."
A 26-year-old Harris, who was standing firmly and at rapt attention whilst Major Hurst held his announcement, felt his heart leap at his introduction. The first time he was actually going to be in charge of a team of men, as his superior was slowly passing down the reins to him. He felt like he was waiting for this opportunity his entire life.
He walked between rows of men, his chest full of exuberance as he inspected the cadets. All tall and fair-complexioned, as they should be. Major Hurst made sure that the right colour and specific build of men entered his squadron. Harris, with his swarthy Mediterranean-like complexion and shorter height, was considered an exotic addition to the D-Squadron while he was a cadet at the academy, but that did not discourage him. He had worked several part-time jobs for a year to be able to pay for his academy tuition and every bit of it paid off.
As he strutted between the lines, he noticed the anomalies that flecked his line of vision. His squadron had five women in it now, their very presence was a minor blasphemy. There had been very rigid inspections to ensure that the right type of women could enter and there was also a strict quota on the number they could admit, but even the sight of women in such a masculine profession bothered him.
He passed a very plain one, strong with an expression of a horse. The next one was fox-faced, with a pointed nose and small eyes. Not any lookers, thought Harris smugly, until he saw the following one.
Standing at 1.73 meters, tall for a woman of her time, was an athletically-built girl with a stern, determined expression on her face and a militant pose that any man would be proud to bear. Her blonde hair was pulled back tightly into a short braid that rested right above her shoulders while her brown eyes were glued right in front of her. Curiosity got the better of Harris, despite Major Hurst observing his every move, and he approached her.
As he got closer, he realised with horror that she was actually a couple of centimeters taller than him. This irked him quite a bit and was provoked to demand loudly from her, "What is your name, cadet?"
"Deborah Callahan, sir!" she ejected like a cannon, most unfeminine.
"Your surname is enough." His eyes roved downwards to see what he was dealing with. His eyes widened as he saw her bosom, it was the largest bosom he had seen on such a young woman who never had children. The size of those tits! How can any girl -
"Sergeant Harris?" came the dreaded clipped voice of Major Hurst. Harris tore his eyes from the offending material and looked toward his superior with his mouth slightly gaping. From where he was standing, Major Hurst did not look amused. "Have you done your inspection?"
Embarrassed for making a fool out of himself in his first opportunity at leadership, Harris shut his mouth immediately and felt fury boiling up towards this Callahan girl. He fought the urge to size her up because he knew he'd repeat the same mistake again and become mesmerized by her female parts, so he looked directly up at her face. Up. At a female. This did not help soothe his endangered ego.
"This isn't a beauty queen contest! I expect you to be able to roll about in the dirt and maintain a most vigorous exercise regime or you are flying out of the academy. And that goes to all the rest of you." Gestured Harris with his instructor baton to the rest of the squadron, carefully keeping his eyes off Callahan. Harris stole a glance at Major Hurst, who seemed pleased once again that his former student was taking charge. With new confidence, Harris strode up to the front of the squadron and announced, "We shall begin with a training course exercise to see where you all stand. So move out, maggots!"
When the confused squadron started to disband slowly, Harris lost his patience and bellowed, "To the obstacle course! Move it! Move it! Move it!"
They ran. Jumping in between tires, crawling in the dirt under barbed wires, clambering and swinging off ropes to reach next levels and they even faced the dreaded wall climb that not many could manage. The girls were pathetic at that one. Harris smirked at how easy it would be to weed them out, until Callahan appeared. She leapt up, her height being an advantage, and with a bit of effort scrambled over the wall and landed lightly on her feet. She even completed the whole course among the first while most of the men panted at her heels. Harris felt another bout of frustration building up in him.
"Those who managed to complete the obstacle course within the required time limit can officially consider themselves full-time members of the academy," said Harris, "and those of you who didn't will have to shape up fast if you expect to stay with us for long."
That was the one and only time that Harris saw a relieved grin on Callahan's face, while the male cadets thronged around her like flies in heat. He submitted to the impulse to dampen her spirits, "Don't expect me to go easy on you now." He said loudly and then without thinking directed his attention at her with disturbing determination, "I will ride you so hard that you will be sore every morning and keep coming back for more pain."
A few of the male cadets snickered and Harris instantly caught himself on another slip-up when he was obviously directing his words at Callahan. The frequency of such mistakes never happened to him before, his face reddening once again, especially when she raised an amused eyebrow at him. Harris looked around jumpily and saw that Major Hurst was watching him again, with a very disapproving look on his face. Harris tried to swallow the thudding heart he felt at his throat in that moment. The day was getting worse, how was he going even survive the whole term with that female embarrassing him?
"Dismissed." Was all that Harris was able to manage to spurt out as the cadets scattered away, twittering amongst themselves about what they witnessed.
Major Hurst walked over to Harris, with an almost-pitying look on his face. "Keep your head straight, Sergeant." he said, not unkindly," You are supposed to be their mentor and setting an example, not losing it over a broad."
At those words and disappointed tone, Harris couldn't even bring himself to look into his superior's face, fixing his gaze instead on the medals that decorated Hurst's lapels. "Yes sir, it won't happen again." was all he could mutter.
"You're a fine instructor, just don't let those dames get to you. I despise them as much as you do." Said Hurst, adding, "And I do not want my successor to make a fool out of himself."
Harris forced himself to look back up into Hurst's eyes, "I won't, Sir. You can rest assured at that."
With a curt nod, Hurst walked in the direction of the main building while Harris' eyes roved over to the cadets and he spotted Callahan, flanked by her male admirers. His fury slowly descending into malice, Harris vowed to teach her a lesson.
I'll show you, the venomous thoughts broiled up within him, Just you wait, girly. I will not have any mercy, I will challenge you as any of the fine male recruits here and I will pound you until you - oh shut up!
Present day, 1972
"Sergeant Harris, will I be holding some classes of my own?"
"Don't expect to be so lucky this year. Maybe in a couple of years you'd hold a class or two when I'm absent, but I happen to conduct all the classes. You just assist." Asserted Harris with an air of superiority.
Callahan turned her head and stared straight ahead of her. She could suppose as much, since Harris was a particular control freak when it came to his power structure being tilted.
"Give me the self-defense class and I won't complain."
"Listen up missy, you don't call the shots around here. If you prefer to have men pawing at you while you're holding the class then this academy is not for you," snapped Harris.
Callahan almost lost her temper right there.
"Sir, with all due respect, I would like to be treated as a fellow officer of the police force, as I deserve. I have no intent of becoming the cadets' plaything, but as you remember sir I was one of the best in the class. Therefore, I suggested that I might take over so that you have more time to attend to the other classes," was Callahan's impatient reply.
"You do not have to worry your pretty little head about me, Callahan, I am made of stronger stuff than you or any other female, and I have immeasurably more experience than you may ever hope to have," said Harris smugly, relishing the flash of anger in her eyes, "now as a good girl, you ought to shut your mouth and learn from me."
"By having a class of my own I can gain experience and be of more help to you," insisted Callahan stubbornly, "you can even create the class structure for me to follow."
"Oh, I can even draw up the class structure, how generous of you Officer Callahan," drawled Harris mockingly in a southern belle accent before switching back to his usual condescending tone, "the only thing you'll be doing, Callahan, is marking the reports and using your voice to bring rowdy cadets in line. Assuming you have the voice for that."
"I most certainly do, Sir!" roared Callahan suddenly, making Harris jump.
Harris stared in disbelief at her display of lung power, before muttering, "Alright, take it easy there cowgirl..."
Callahan folded her arms and held her chin up assuredly. She never had the opportunity to prove her abilities while working in her district station, and she was already starting to like it here.
While her male superiors at the station had nothing to want to do with her, Commandant Lassard was open-minded enough not to pass judgment due to her gender, and she was sure that it would only be a matter of time before she'd gain the grudging respect from Sergeant Harris.
And to think, she used to admire him. And not just in a student-mentor kind of way.
Week 3 of the term, 1970
Debbie Callahan thrived at the academy and in its environment.
For the first time in her life, she felt that she was pursuing what she was born for and her strength was finally a subject of praise, not criticism. While at school and university young men used to shy away from her and her strict demeanor, the male cadets saw her a challenge. She did not know whether to be pleasantly surprised or offended at being the target of the cadets' attention, as a few even approached her to ask for a date.
At this point she could have had any of them, a power so thrilling to wield, but was no fun in practice. The boys were too easy, slobbering at any opportunity to be with her. The instructors were too old for her to pay any attention to them and they did not plan on liaising with female cadets either.
The only instructor who was within the age bracket she considered was Sergeant Harris, and he proved to be a tough one. Unlike her peers, he would not give her the pleasure of being at the center of attention and, although she knew that he found her attractive, he firmly stood by his principles and strove to ensure her training at the academy to be as difficult as for everyone else.
She liked it, this discipline he upheld. The admirable air of confidence he carried even if everything was going wrong and despite the very fact that he was only a few years older than the cadets. While any other male she touched would melt and become submissive to her whims, Harris would stubbornly push back and fight for his superiority. She never faced anyone like this, and for the first time, someone was intriguing enough to preoccupy her full attention.
Wednesday morning, Police and Ethics class. What better way to spend a hot, rainy morning to taking notes about the proprieties of police conduct when dealing with apprehended criminals. Besides reading them the Miranda rights, there were additional procedures concerning the amount of time the police could keep suspects in prison with various types of proof, the amount of physical force that an officer may use, how to avoid endangering civil rights of citizens and so on. Some, like Harris, considered such classes a necessary evil, while others saw it as a vital rule guide that every police officer needed to follow. For Callahan, the most important task at the moment was deciphering the rebus-like scribbles that Harris made on the blackboard as notes for the class.
Major Hurst's presence in classes gradually decreased over the previous weeks, to the point that Harris was now holding them and grilling the cadets through the classes. And he had the nasty habit of questioning the cadets about topics they barely knew.
"If I were to ask you," began Harris, as he walked down the aisle between tables, "what the term accountability has in an officer's life. How would you define it - Cooney?"
Cooney jerked up from his daze to see Harris standing above him, looking more and more impatient by the minute.
"I'm waiting, Cooney."
Cooney opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before settling on his answer, "It means that we are responsible to catch the bad guys?"
Harris sighed in disappointment, closed his eyes and furrowed his brows, "No, Cooney. That is our duty. Accountability is being responsible for the oath you give when you become an officer of law. Something that I hope the rest of you will be able to achieve, but I doubt that even half of you will see that day," he added dryly.
There were a couple of whispers from the cadets asking about the oath, which irritated Harris to the point until he vented out, "Yes, the Law Enforcement Oath of Honor! Haven't any of you numbskulls heard anything about it, or are you expecting that once you leave the academy you can stroll around and arrest your bully from high school who now works at the gas station?"
He strode to the front of the class and looked around at the group of confused and offended faces.
"I guess it is pointless to ask any of you if you even know the Oath, seeing what an informed bunch I have to deal with here!" He spat out with cruel sarcasm.
"On my honor, I will never betray my badge, my integrity, my character, or the public trust."
Harris looked down at Callahan who sat in the front row and raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you know, girl?" He asked, seemingly unimpressed.
Callahan looked up at him dead on in the face and continued, "I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for her actions. I will always uphold the constitution, the community and the agency that I serve."
It was a moment where Callahan was so sure that nothing could go wrong, that she had risen above the rest of her ignorant peers and gained the respect from the instructor whom she perplexingly tried to impress. A faint musk of sweat lingered in the classroom, while the slow rotating fans above seemed to make the air hotter. The heat and the expectation of his response was becoming frustrating as he approached her desk.
"Well, well, well, seems like we have here someone who opened up a school pamphlet and read something about the police force."
Startled by his open hostility instead of praise, Callahan spoke back, "My uncle has a placard on his wall where I read it."
"You expect a gold star for nepotism, Callahan? Family ties won't get you a job, perhaps in some backwater but not in any of these precincts," Harris leaned over her desk, the smugness reaching new heights, "strike one for talking back, and do not make me hand you a strike two otherwise it's three sets of pushups for you."
A morbid feeling of disappointment welled in Callahan at his attitude, and it obviously crept into her eyes when Harris said in mock sympathy, "There, there now. You don't wanna join your other two girl friends out of this academy to work at a beauty parlor, now do you?"
Hot shame was now flushing her face that she barely managed to blurt out a "no sir".
Pleased with his handiwork at cracking her, Harris straightened up so that the lamplight glistened in his steel black hair that curled at the ends. Callahan stared miserably back at her tormentor whom she used to admire and something more. Not only was she humiliated but a gnawing feel of betrayal chewed at her insides.
"As Miss Family Affair here said," continued Harris, driving the verbal knife in further, "you can read that oath anywhere. And for heaven's sake, show some interest in the profession you are going to pursue, dirtbags!"
The wave of humiliation that radiated throughout the class seemed to satisfy Harris. Glancing at the clock on the wall and back at the room, he announced impassively, "Class dismissed."
The cowed cadets shuffled their way out, while Callahan lingered behind, still feeling the soreness of what had happened. Although she came from a family where tough love was a common form of expression, no one had spoke to her like that before, making her feel so cheap.
"Hurry up cadet, otherwise your potential husbands will get away," drawled Harris lazily, as he sat in his chair and started polishing the head of his baton with a handkerchief.
Callahan composed herself, squared her shoulders and walked over to him. She managed to muster up her dignity as she spoke, "Sir, I do not want to give the impression that I view the academy as a way to pass time. I had given up on my degree in order to attend this academy and I mean to complete my training successfully without backing away from any challenges that may be posed to me, physical or verbal."
"That is all well to hear, cadet," replied Harris, still cleaning his baton without looking at her, "but I doubt that you'll be saying that in the next few weeks when I turn up the training intensity even further. Two of your girls couldn't even stand up to three weeks, and that's just the basics."
"And I promise that you will not be disappointed with me, sir. I am ready to accept any orders that you may have, but I do not feel comfortable with the tearing of my morale, Sir."
Now Harris looked up and brought himself up to full height. "Tearing of your morale?" he asked softly, his tone edgy, "This isn't university, girl. This is the police, a dog eats dog world. If you cannot handle the brunt I lay on you, then you stand no chance out there. They will tear you to shreds, not just the criminals, but your bosses too."
There was a personal seriousness that came with those words, and Callahan thought for a moment that he might have been talking about his own experience.
"And that, is one of the most glazed over aspects of courage in police work. The ability to stand unethical pressure, fear and danger, from all sides." The humidity of the rain drenched the atmosphere uncomfortably as she let his words sink in. He gazed at her intently, slowly sliding his line of sight downwards, his lips unconsciously parting as he took in the sight of her in cadet uniform. Normally, Callahan would have felt a fluttering feeling that she could not name when he looked at her like that, but now it was stained with a growing sense of bitterness.
Catching himself at his own mistake once again, Harris returned his scrutiny back to her face and managed to blurt out, "Now go join your boyfriends."
Callahan turned and left the classroom, still feeling his burning stare at her back. But what pleasure she had felt from this interaction was overshadowed by a sour sensation that flooded her consciousness. That taste of sourness gradually increased over the next few weeks while the ebb of longing faded away into nothingness.
Despite the glaringly obvious reasons for his behavior, she never forgave him for that day.
Present day, 1972
"I miss Hurst."
Callahan stared in disbelief at Harris' confession.
"Well, almost," Harris hastily corrected himself, "I'm glad I got his job, either way he wasn't up for it anymore." Realising that he was making himself look even worse, Harris sighed and tried again, "What I mean to say is, he was a good instructor and I learnt a lot from him. He was head of my squadron while I was a cadet and I was his co-instructor for two years. The academy produced a lot of good officers under him, and we wouldn't have to resort to such desperate measures by hiring women to do a man's job."
"Not even when these women were some of the best cadets in the academy?" countered Callahan daringly.
"Don't get so full of yourself, Callahan," scoffed Harris, though he was already starting to call her by her name and not just 'girl' or 'missy', "Besides what happened to the other girl you graduated with? Out of five women only you and this other broad succeeded to complete your training."
"Pateki worked for a while in the same precinct as I did, but got married within a year and left her career to become a housewife," replied Callahan with disdain.
"Smart woman, hopefully you'll have enough sense to do the same one day."
"I might consider that about the same time when you're ready for retirement."
"Nice try Callahan, but I'm not going anywhere for a long, long time. Why, if you were still a cadet, I'd make you do three sets of thirty pushups just for that comment!"
"I already did that as a cadet, Sir," reminded Callahan, as she stared around the gym that they were touring at the moment, "you punished the entire squadron for that incident involving the cranberry juice and laxatives."
Harris held his hand up, his face darkening, "Don't remind me. That was a horrible experience and every single one of you damn well deserved those pushups. And wipe that smirk off your face!" he snapped as Callahan suppressed her growing smile, "I know the whole class was in on it and I had enough sense to cut off further buffoonery at the root!"
"I wouldn't have allowed them to go ahead with it if you hadn't derided me in front of the whole class," said Callahan coolly, as she picked up and inspected a random basketball from the ball hamper.
"I was toughening you up, you dumbass!" growled Harris, now using masculine insults before Callahan. He was truly starting to see eye-to-eye with her. "Just because I didn't fawn over you like your little boyfriends did doesn't mean that I thought you were incompetent. I wasn't letting the fact that you're a woman allow me to treat you more leniently when you obviously had more sense and discipline than the rest of the squadron!"
Now that was a surprise. "You...thought I was better than the rest?" asked Callahan cautiously, "Even though you didn't like me?"
"It's not that I didn't like you, even you know that," muttered Harris, angry at himself for admitting it out loud, "I was surprised that you knew the oath when all the other men whom I had expected so much more from had no damn clue as to what I was talking about. Yes, I remember that day," he snapped irritably when Callahan opened her mouth for an inquisitive interruption, "you stood out like no one else did in that class and got the grades to prove it. I did recognise your potential but I didn't, and never will, allow myself to be implicated under any suspicion that I display favouritism towards any cadet, especially when they're female!"
It was as if he had said the magic words and much of the contempt Callahan felt towards him started rapidly to disperse. The raw disclosure of Harris' sentiment had partially redeemed him in her eyes, but not to the point to rekindle past affections. That part was forever lost to her.
Harris avoided her perceptive eyes and instead paid attention to the basketball scoreboard that hung on the far wall. It still displayed the results of the previous game that the academy lost to the visitors - a competing academy - by a few points. Callahan didn't dare say anything, lest she'd ruin the shaky truce they had built between them within the last few hours. Exhaling sharply through his small broad nose, Harris seemed to have made a decision.
"So what is your proposed program for the defense class?"
Callahan allowed herself a small smile at that.
"I was thinking of starting with the basics of incapacitating the perpetrator." Stated Callahan, pacing in front of his line of vision, "This would include the common wrist locks, joint locks and short-range hand strikes. Then I would move onto introducing the falling and throwing techniques in judo and restricting the opponent's range of movement whilst on the ground. In a couple of classes we'd progress to manual gun disarmament, defense against blunt objects and knives, and proper and controlled use of the baton."
"Is that all you offer?" asked Harris, back in his impatient mode.
"That is only for the first seven weeks," assured Callahan, feeling a bit relieved that he was being himself again, "I will implement whatever you consider necessary for the class and make sure the cadets learn it thoroughly."
Harris nodded curtly. "It sounds like a good program," he acknowledged reluctantly.
"You could say that I'd ride them so hard they'd be sore the next day," added Callahan cheekily.
It took a minute for Harris to realise what she was referring to before he shot her a dirty look and warned, "Don't push it Callahan. Your days of having admirers are over and don't expect any of the cadets to be interested in you either. Expect to spend your days as a spinster here and putting up with the crap those idiots pull on their superiors."
"You mean like the one with the mascot dog and your police parade shoes?" offered Callahan innocently.
"I should have known you were in on that!" exploded Harris, completely disregarding the calm he barely managed to compose, "Have you any idea of how much I had to pay for them?! I had to appear before the mayor who was visiting our academy the next day in my in my combat boots because my daily shoes were being repaired! He thought I was the poster boy for police brutality!"
"I didn't do anything Sergeant, I just stood on the sidelines." replied Callahan sedately. And provided the gravy for the shoes so the dog would chew on them, reflected Callahan as an afterthought.
"In this line of work, there are no standing on the sidelines," huffed Harris, poking her and receiving a ruffled response that made him cease doing so immediately, "remember, the cadets will smell any weakness and it is up to us to put them in their place. You and I are together in this, and I expect to us work as a team to shape up these dirtbags."
That was all she needed to hear. "Right there with you sir."
"With me in charge of the team, of course."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, sir."
With those words, Callahan reached into her breast pocket and placed a pair of sunglasses on her face, imposing an enigmatic appearance that Harris would forever associate her by. Harris fought the urge to respond by putting his gloves on when he remembered how warm the day was. He sized her up again, thankfully not diverting much attention this time to her bosom. He could still hardly believe that in a measly few hours he transcended from the hard-nosed boss to a fellow officer who almost acknowledged her as his equal. Well, almost. She was cleverer than he gave her credit for, nearly as cunning as himself. Must be my weakness for blondes. Yeah, that was probably it.
"So where will I be staying?" she asked pointedly, and Harris found himself too tired to correct her for speaking out demandingly. The next best thing was to respond with sarcasm.
"I was going to have you sleep in the janitor's room for a couple of days to learn your place but since you got on my good side early on I will skip straight to showing you the instructors' quarters," his arrogant swagger was back, "and maybe, when you rise a rank or two, you will even have your own shower so you wouldn't have to sneak into the men's showers after curfew to maintain your personal hygiene."
"Oh I know where those quarters are," said Callahan was they were moving towards the exit of the gym, "I found out about them when my peers planned to plant firecrackers in the hallway. I was there to stop them, of course."
"You sure you're weren't standing on the sidelines again?" asked Harris tartly, quickening his pace, "Besides, the firecracker stunt is old. Every generation of cadets pulled that one on their superiors." He stopped himself from adding "myself included".
"Since it seems that we have completed the tour, I shall begin the process of transferring my belongings here," said Callahan in an annoyingly cheerful tone, "see you in an hour, sir."
As she walked dauntlessly away with a slight swing of her hips, Harris felt a sudden itch to clean his baton that with a pang of regret he remembered leaving in his study. This woman was going to be a handful, he just knew it. Will the cadets even fear her?
END
Author's Note: Aaand done! This baby took me three days to complete, and it feels good to write again! This section is sorely missing on fics, so I decided to chip in. I did a bit of background research about the types of classes and training that go on in a police academy and even read up on the oath police officers have to give when they officially join the force. I don't know how just how much all of this is accurate and whether it was implemented in the 70s, but the movies themselves were full of inconsistencies so I guess they can be glazed over.
Like I mentioned in the introduction note, I tried to keep the two in character. I could imagine Callahan having a sort of puppy love for Harris at first that even she didn't recognise and Harris experiencing the male instinctual attraction to a sexy woman. I was surprised to find out that there isn't a big age gap between them. She shares similar values as Harris yet when he insulted her before the entire class by indicating that she would be incompetent enough to find a job on her own, hinting that she might be unable to complete the program and mocking her vulnerability any mushy feelings for him dissipated and it brought her a step closer to the tough-as-nails Callahan we all know and love. Harris himself wouldn't risk endangering his opportunity to prove himself as a worthy instructor by showing any leniency towards her, especially so early in his career.
Let me know if the language got too vulgar or if the rating needs to be pushed up. Once again, I hoped you had fun reading this, and reviews will be greatly appreciated!