Hi, again! I seriously don't know if anyone read the first chapter, but trust me, if you did I love you. Secondly, the fic's progressing rather smoothly, in my estimation. But as a first-time writer, I'm probably not the best person to judge that.

Lastly, this chapter and all subsequent chapters will probably be wrote in 1st person, since Ramon isn't well... reviewing events that have already occurred. (Like in chapter one.)

oOoOoO

43rd Street Station's Accomodation:

I'm up early. I mean, the sun's only just beginning to peak through the sullen grey clouds when I shoot out of bed; I'm so ready for my first full day. Bring it on. Eagerly, my bed is quickly made and I manage to blow through a shower in record time. Still, I don't exactly see why I'm rushing like this. It's only half-five in the morning - even the captain I met last night is more than likely deep in an unconscious slumber; dreaming about arresting a criminal gang who are omniscient or something silly like that...

The rest of my routine follows yesterday's in a number of ways - I force myself into the first clothes that I can spot and I'm feeling pretty in need of some liquid refreshment. Drastically in need, I might add.

In a strange twist of fate, I spend the next hour rushing about and worrying myself reckless; until there's a polite knock at my door. Eve!

I swing open the door, narrowly missing giving myself a concussion to find Eve standing there. Blood rushes to the surface of my face when I notice that it's her and not anyone else. Arceus, she looks just as cute as yesterday. Even if she seems to be really sleep-deprived. Eve's still in her pyjamas, a tight-fitting onesie with a hood that hangs lazily over her shoulder. Mmm.

What I wouldn't do to get into that...

"H-hey! Ramon! Are you listening to me?" She says, tapping my nose repeatedly, desperately trying to get my attention. Yeah. NOW I'm listening.

"Um...yeah. What's wrong?" I ask, placing a hand over my mouth to stifle an incoming yawn.

"We need to go and properly introduce ourselves to the other officers! Erika, Tommy and Amber?"

"Ah... why didn't you say so?" I question, immediately finding the situation something to be a little less relaxed about. With this in mind, I take the lead and head down into the briefing room, Eve hot on my heels; thankfully to find that everyone else had the same idea. Sat on some hastily-positioned sofas are the others - all of them wearing the laziest shit-eating smiles on their faces. Tommy for a start, pulls me over next to him and more or less ruins what could've been a glorious moment for Eve and I. He knows this and lowers his voice accordingly:

"I was half expecting that we'd hear moans instead of footsteps. Mmm. You just can't help it... you're always going to want pussy bad."

My voice rapidly flushes crimson as a result of my friend's teasing, and he doesn't stop there. Truly, for an hour and half he gives me hell. The teasing is incessant and includes asking me various things...

Like, how much milk Eve's tits can squeeze out.

How loud the girl squeals when I whisper certain... phrases to her...

And other stuff...

Naturally, as a result, by the time I'm so supposed to introduce myself to Eve, I'm a wreck. Literally. Tommy's girlish giggling almost makes me die inside. None more so than now. After trying(and failing) to get myself to speak, I settle for a high-five; she knows my name anyway.

Weakly, I look back at Tommy, as he flicks his long white ponytail around like a towel. His golden eyes glinting mischievously.

Meeting everyone else after this wasn't nearly as bad.

Amber's petite, flat-chested and looks about nine. She talks like a fucking sailor though. Still, she seems like a nice person and actually tore Tommy a new one when it came to his turn to greet everyone else... I laughed. A lot.

Erika's... um, gothy? Really, she's quiet and has a fetish for black things, whether it's make-up, clothes, charms or anything else she can think of that sorts her desired colour-spectrum range. Everything about her that could be black, is. Except her personality, she's really bubbly and sweet.

None of these girls are my type... except Eve. Definitely. No... I'm sure of it.

Then we meet the old sweats - guys and girls who've served here for a few years, most are barely entering their twenties. There's five altogether, but one was off with a cold when we arrived yesterday. Their names are John, Patrick, Kenny, Seamus and Aoife. Us "newbies" seem to getting on well with all of them... except Aoife. Sorry, "Ee-fa." Luckily, I won't see her that often; the ten of us get rotated in and out of work every eight days, to give us a break and to allow ten other officers some time to build up their skills. Eight days on. Three days off. That's how it works, for new officers... apparently.

Pretty soon though, the five of us collectively push "Ee-fa" out of our minds, namely because it's time to receive our uniforms. To start with, we're led to what looks like a much smaller version of the lobby at the Blue Harbour and then handed two duffel bags each. We're told to mix and match with each other to find uniforms that fit - as the suppliers are pretty shitty and tend to order clothes that are too big for new officers. Eve's looking good, she fills out the two-tone blue uniform nicely and that baseball cap... rawr.

I too, am doing okay. Most of my uniform fits, with the exception of the boots. Fuck you, boots.

To illustrate my point, I look back into a strategically placed mirror and whistle lowly - I look really nice... or at least that's I what think. My medium-length black hair falls neatly above the collar, my freckles aren't that noticeable and the light blue shirt matches my eyes. I focus on my jaw, it's tight and squared-off almost to perfection. All I can say is that I have one hell of a chin.

I spend most of the time in that room admiring myself, until we're called back into the briefing room by Aoife's quickly souring voice...

oOoOoO

I think that's her normal tone of voice, or would 'thought' be more apt?

Because, as it turns out, I fucked up. Really fucked up. Somehow, that little theory all comes together when she directs all of stinging low-blows at me and gives absolutely none of this to Tommy, Amber, Erika or Eve. The Old Sweats aren't speaking either, they're just watching Aoife. Wide-eyed.

"RAMON! LET'S PLAY A GAME! IT'S CALLED 'WHO LEFT THEIR FUCKIN' POKEMON IN THE CANTEEN OVERNIGHT' - YOU GET THREE GUESSES; YOU, YOU OR GUESS-FUCKIN' WHO? YOU!" She shrieks.

Her voice booms with strain, betraying her young looks and seemingly youthful personality. Ouch, this girl is seriously turning out to be one of worst parts of my career so far-

Oh shit.

I DID leave Riolu down here when I conked out, and by the sounds of things, he ate most of the canteen's supply too. Riolu, the "greedy little shit" as Aoife so politely calls him, scurries into the briefing room at the worst possible time. I don't know whether I was hallucinating or not yesterday, but if he can understand English then I believe Aoife's birth certificate is about to be declared invalid...

Riolu looks around and then stares at me.

I stare back, sort of in a silent staring contest with the emanation Pokemon. Everything else seems to fade away as I look at Riolu, wondering if I'll hear anything think else coming from this Pokemon... nope. As expected, Aoife is livid with this sudden interruption and continues with her verbal barrage in my direction; she even manages to bring Amber and Eve into it. I'm focusing on Riolu so much that I don't notice Eve running from the room in floods of tears as newbies and the Old Sweats alike are left staring at the seat where she's supposed to be sitting. I'm going to sound really bad for saying this but thank Arceus; if Eve hadn't got so upset just now then I'd still have to deal with Ripsaw-girl's incessant shouting.

Riolu, to his credit acts completely oblivious to the cacophony around us and hops up into my arms just as Kenny leads Aoife out onto the main reception area to attempt to calm her down. She still manages to give me an earful on the way out though.

Eventually, Eve returns and sits by me, her eyes puffy and red. Patrick, who is by his own admission "ashamed" of Aoife's treatment of Eve and Amber(but not so much me) then decides to tell us what we were going to be told originally. Before Aoife well... yeah.

"Okay. With the exception of Eve, you're all going to get your first taste of what being an officer of the CCPD is like. Guess what? You're all going on patrol..."

It doesn't take a second for Amber, Erika, Tommy and I to explode into cheerful shouts. We're so grateful for this!

oOoOoO

A few minutes later and we're in the armoury, kitting ourselves out; with the exception of our uniforms we're not allowed to have own of the equipment used on our shifts outside of our jobs. But then, no one is. My duty-belt hugs the circumference of my waist nicely and has all kinds of trinkets inserted into various pouches, holsters and containers - for example, pepper spray. I pull a sidearm from out of one of the many secure safes, pulling back the slide and slipping into a holster... ooh! It's the first time I've seen a pistol or any kind of gun for that matter since training finished. Next comes my baton, which I pull from my belt and give a few swings - it's in great working shape!

When I'm finally done testing my equipment, and there's a lot to be tested, I put on my bulletproof vest and head back to the briefing room; this is mainly so we can find out who we'll all be partnering with during our first shifts.

oOoOoO

Re-entering the briefing room, I notice everyone else. Evidently, they're all ready to go too - but I'm noticing subtle differences in the way we like our equipment: firstly, Tommy, Erika and Amber have all chosen utility vests - which have the same protection as my bulletproof vest yet have pouches for the equipment. So there's no need for a belt. Darn.

Everyone has their Pokemon with them too. Even Eve, who explains that the Old Sweats thought it be best that she miss today's shift; they want her to calm down after her crying fit earlier. "Jig" - as Eve refers to her Jigglypuff, is pretty much a reflection of its trainer - friendly, confident-ish and completely ADORABLE.

Tommy's Growlithe is really... excuse the pun, "fiery" and has really struck up a rapport with Riolu, who seems to be chasing him around the room right now; Tommy and I laugh at that, clearly amused by our Pokemon's antics. Amber's Eevee soon joins the chase, and we all have our hands full. Erika's Nidoran doesn't seem willing though... for some reason.

I stop messing around when Seamus enters the room, his boots making an audible 'tap' on the polished planks that make up the room's floor. It sort of serves as signal to everyone else too... I'd like to think.

Seamus then clears his throat to deliver the long-awaited news:

"Okay! Erika and Amber - you're together!" He says, the two of them quickly being escorted from the room by Patrick, he tells Tommy and I to follow when we're told too.

"That means that last but certainly not least, being paired up right now are Tommy and RRAAAAAAAAMON!"

That's good enough for Tommy, who drags me almost off my feet out of the room; giving me absolutely no time to question why Seamus had to put so much emphasis on my name or why he trilled the 'R', still though, I don't complain.

Being our 'guide' - a self-given title evidently, Patrick shows us to the yard where the station's patrol cars are kept. We can just about hear the screeching of tyres from Erika and Amber's vehicle just up ahead; the pair of them doubtlessly tearing down nearby Casteliacone Street...

"Ramon, do you remember those aptitude tests that every recruit took at the start of training?" Patrick asks, curious to see whether I'll mess up again.

Just as I open my mouth to reply, Tommy interjects with his "wisdom"

"Apti-what?"

Truthfully, that saves me. Patrick gives us a long talk about what purpose they serve.

Then comes the bad news.

"Since you two had very...similar aptitude scores, you won't be patrolling from a vehicle. You'll be patrolling... on FOOT!" He laughs, a nasty devilish cackle of syllables that doesn't cease to assault my ears or haunt my thoughts. Just as I feel Tommy about to pen his resignation, Patrick speaks up again.

"Don't worry though. It's just for the first week! After that, you'll start receiving orders on how your shifts will go. Now, your shifts last for ten hours and you are both allowed a forty-five minute break during them. Good luck!"

With this helpful bit of information channelling it's way into my brain, Tommy and I begin walking. We walk out of the gate and onto 43rd street proper - ready to begin our first patrol.

oOoOoO

Well, that's chapter 2 done; I honestly don't know if I'm writing to no one here, but it's fun. I like it.

I don't know, I never took German. :p