"Rizzoli's looking for a new partner," Ollie says with a mouthful of sandwich. Sam reaches across the sticky deli table and picks the discarded pickle off his friend's plate. "Yeah? What's wrong with the old one?" he asks, taking a bite. Dan Mateo was a stand-up guy, graduated from the academy a year before his class had; Shaw, Barber, Rizzoli, Williams and Best. Oliver wipes the back of his hand over his mouth, gratefully taking the napkin Sam tosses at his face. "Thanks brother." He leans back in his chair and folds his hands over his stomach contentedly. "Anyways, Mateo got put on probation. Turns out he was dealing with the same guys that they were trying to bring in." Sam can feel his eyebrows work their way up his forehead. He thought that Rizzoli and Mateo had been tight, always came back from their ops with a win. They were known for their success. "Cover story turned real, huh?" Oliver flips a potato chip into the air and opens his mouth to catch it. Sam snorts. The chip hits Oliver between the eyes. "Yep. You ah, should talk to the brass about it." Oliver catches Sam's eye pointedly. "No really, man. You should. It's the perfect job for you."
Sam's wanted to get into Guns and Gangs, the city's specialized drug control unit, ever since he learned that it existed. Way before the academy even. It was no secret to the group of friends he ran around with at the academy. Rizzoli was the only one who never poked fun of him for his single minded goal. Maybe because it was one of the things they had in common. Open positions were rare and highly competitive when they were available. Rizzoli had gotten in, first try, and no one was surprised. Sam had graduated with honors, too, but Rizzoli one-upped him just as much as he reciprocated the favor in classes and tests. He and Rizzoli would make a solid team. He used to live for the dream of working DCU until he became a beat cop and had to forget it for a few years. It was getting to him. It had always gotten to him and now here was his chance, just dangling from a stick in front of him. He wanted to grab it. He had to come up with a better proposal than "we'd make a good team, sir" if he wanted to sell himself to the brass. He tries to think, waiting outside of the sergeant's office, but Boyko was already motioning him in. Sam rubs his clammy hands together and mentally curses Oliver for convincing him that this was a good idea.
"Swarek!" Boyko claps him hard on the shoulder and it's the first time that Sam doesn't need to fight the urge to wince. "Good timing. Guns and Gangs called. A position's opened up and I gave them your name. I figured it was an opportunity that you'd be interested in." Sam snaps his mouth shut. "Yessir. Thank you sir." Boyko waves his hand dismissively. "You should hear from them soon. Apparently Rizzoli already requested you by name. You know each other?" Sam is breathless. "Yeah-I mean, yes sir. We graduated the academy in the same year, sir."
Oliver practically crows behind the desk at booking when Sam makes it downstairs to tell him the news after shift.
Friday night, they hike it out across town to The Dirty Robber, so Jerry can meet them for drink after his shift at 27. Sam's head is already swimming by that time. He has his first briefing on Monday morning. "Rizzoli'll be there?" Jerry asks. He's growing out a mustache and it gives him a very dated look, like maybe he belongs in another era, time-traveler-esque. "Think so," Sam says and doesn't want to risk nodding his head. He orders a burger and fries. "Lucky you," Jerry commented, off-handed but with a suggestive wink. "This isn't luck, man. It's destiny!" Oliver says, loud and boisterous, almost drops his beer on the counter.
A/N; I don't know what I am doing. If this is something I should continue, please let me know.