The Law, Without the Order
The nine -nine was not your textbook police precinct. It was a veritable blend of some of the most unique people one could ever hope to meet.
It was the only place where you could find a Six Foot tall, black, muscular man sing his daughter's favorite lullaby in the middle of the room and his coworkers being perfectly fine with it, going about their business as usual.
It was the only place where a stare from a certain Latina, dressed head to toe in Black could send shivers down the hardest of criminals.
It was the only place where you could see a cop doubling as a seasoned food critic who had an acclaimed blog to his name, not to mention a sizeable fan following (because let's face it, his was the only blog that measured mouth-feel).
It was the only place a civilian administrator could paint her toenails, update her twitter account, field calls and fill paperwork at the same time; performing all the tasks to perfection without breaking a sweat.
The only place where the smelly feet and fungi ridden toes of a certain pair of ageing detectives was totally no big deal.
A place that gave a Black, Gay Police Officer a chance to prove himself to the department, which had always oppressed him.
It was the place where a man-child in his thirties first discovered his feelings for his over-competitive, Type A partner- cum –competitor .It was the place where the very same over-competitive, Type A partner- cum –competitor fell for him, without her ever realizing it.
The Nine -Nine was not your textbook police precinct. It was a Family.