The Demon Of The Nine-Nine

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo or Brooklyn 99 in any way, shape, or form. They belong to their respective owners.

xxtanzeelxx: Of course the Squad will want to know more about Six/Jericho but will respect his privacy...at least initially. Eventually they will look him up and be left amazed at his list of accomplishments. Yes, Six will also have a military background that Dot created to explain why he has so many scars across his face his special forces vibes.

vladimir levendal: Then I hope that you like this chapter :)

Cipherical: I'm certain that it took a while to get him out of armour let alone stopping him from bringing an armada of weapons to the precinct lol.

Solidghost: If it's still alright with you. If not, then let me know.

Guest: Eventually yes otherwise what would be the point adding him into the story.

Shadow55: Yes, I plan for Six to have a love interest in this story. I'm not going to spoil who Six will be paired with yet though. Rather I'd prefer it to be a slow burn. It might be Amy. Maybe Rosa. Could be Sophia, or maybe someone else...you'll just have to wait and see.

Nicogen: I'm not going to spoil it for you :)

Guest: Six will be getting his own nemesis. Whether that will be someone from the show or someone from the Halo/verse twenty-sixth century, well you'll just have to wait and see.

Guest: Six has a property outside of the city that he lives at, but he might have a few safehouses throughout New York that he can go to whenever he needs a base of operation during his vigilante work.

Chapter 3.

A few hours after getting showered and doing everything he needed to do back home, Noble Six was back in New York City, a place that grown attached to over the last decade.

While New York still existed in the twenty-sixth century, he had never had the opportunity to see it with his own eyes. His previous occupation left little time for sightseeing; in fact, he hadn't even stepped foot on Earth until he and Dot had been transported back in time.

While Earth was beautiful, it was a mere shadow of what it would one day become...but even then, it paled in comparison to the beauty of Jericho VII, his home world. He had been all across the Orion Arm and no world had ever compared to his home; however, there was the possibility that he was being biased. A world known for its rolling plains of palm grass, vast green oceans, the four silver moons that orbited the planet, and the controlled ecosystem that was free of pollution.

It was a literal utopia, one that had taken years to create...one that had been destroyed by the Covenant.

Oceans boiled turning to vapor. Green plains were covered by a thick tar-like surface. Cities were consumed by the beams of superheated plasma. Gunfire echoed across the planet like thunder in the night. Bodies as far as the eye could see. The smell of burning flesh hit his nostrils. A flame trickled behind him making the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. A shower of blue and purple plasma bolts lit around him like the fourth of July. The rich blue skies perverted and corrupted were replaced by black, grey, and red, followed by violent storms.

The cracking of leather pulled the Spartan from his thoughts to see that gripping the steering wheel so tightly that the wheel was beginning to crack, and his knuckles had turned white. Exhaling through his nose, he quickly purged those thoughts from his mind. There was a reason that he tried not to dwell on the past, well his past at any rate, whatever could go wrong more often than not did go wrong for him...Murphy really had it out for him.

Furthermore, he could not afford to be distracted...not today. While he was only there to do the job, he intended to make a good impression on Captain Holt and his new squad. The last thing he wanted was for them, or anyone for that matter, to think he was some scatter-brained fool that constantly daydreamed while on the job, worse mid conversation.

Shaking his head, Six looked down at the clock on the dashboard to see that it was 07:32 hours. His shift started at 0800 hundred-er, 08:00 AM, meaning that he still had a little bit of time until his shift started...still, he thought it be best to arrive early. Turning down a road, he spotted a large building that was painted white which sorely needed a fresh lick of paint after the cities excessive pollution had tainted the paintwork over time; and in front of the building were a handful of patrol cars.

Driving past the entrance, Six drove down the ramp that led into the parking lot and pulled into one of the spots between a black motorbike and what looked like a minivan.

Parking up, the Spartan grabbed his Glock 19, a far inferior weapon to the M6 series, from the glovebox and climbed out of the car and locked it. Placing his sidearm into his holster and fastening the strap, he left the parking lot and headed back the way he came and walked back onto the street. Stepping onto the pavement, the street was mostly empty side from a passing family that hurried past him, the children looking up mouth wide at the mere sight of him, as they walked in the opposite direction, no doubt the parents were dropping them off at school.

Ignoring them, the former Lieutenant of the UNSC, now Detective of the NYPD walked down the street passing the patrol cars and walked into the ninety ninth precinct. Stepping inside of the building, his enhanced hearing picked up countless sounds that ranged from kettles boiling, chatter among friends/colleagues, pens scratching across paper, mugs being placed down, people making complaints/reporting crimes, phones ringing and many, many more.

Ignoring the noise as best he could, B312 spotted a uniformed officer standing on the edge of the stairs and engaging his fellow office in conversation.

"Excuse me." The Spartan called walking over to the three men that were engaged in deep conversation, something about the captain being a real hard ass, and turned to see him approaching making their eyes go wide, something he had come to expect wherever he went. Ignoring the scars he had gained through the war, even out of Mjolnir, Spartans were quiet imposing towering over everyone...well, everyone apart from Lucy.

Thankfully these days he had gained some more colour to his skin compared to the albino-white skin he had during the war and when he had first joined the force; an aftereffect of pretty much living in his armour 24/7.

"Um, yes?" One of the officers asked, his voice nervous as he looked him over before visibly relaxing when he saw his badge on his belt. "Detective?"

"I require the location of Captain Holt's office." Six stated as he reached the top of the stairs and looked down at the three officers.

"You new here?" The Officer questioned only to receive the same blank look from the scarred Spartan. "I'm certain I'd remember seeing you."

It was irrelevant to his previous question but there was no harm in answering it. "Correct."

"Ah, well welcome to the Nine-Nine."

"Thank you." Six thanked the man, though was inwardly displeased that a total of twelve seconds had been wasted with small talk. All he wished to know was where the captain's office was located. "The captain's office?"

"Oh, right." The officer seemed to wordlessly berate themselves. "It's located on the Fourth Floor."

"Thank you." Six repeated and bid the three officers farewell and began walking away.

"Hold up, Detective!" The same officer called back as Six turned around to face them to see them moving at a steady jog to catch up to him. "I'll show you where it is, I've got to go up there anyway." He told the Spartan. "This way." He added taking the lead and walking towards where the metal doors to the elevator were situated.

Heading over to the elevator, the detective and officer walked in silence and pressed the button and walked inside the box-shaped room. Once inside the elevator, Six placed his arms behind his back and watched the officer went to press the button only to suddenly stopped dead in his tracks confusing the Spartan.

"Oh, crap." The uniformed officer blurted out once again confusing Six. "I totally forgot that the captain asked me to...actually I left the gas on at home and my dogs need to be walked. I really should...go." he stated coming up with two different excuses why he needed to leave. "Good luck." He wished him all the best before he made a hasty retreat leaving the Spartan alone.

Before he could wonder what on earth was going on two rather large men walked into the elevator. The first and larger of the two had a light brown fade cut, dark blue eyes and a deep tan and stood around average height for a man of his age. He was wearing a light blue shirt with a black striped tier, a black overcoat that was mostly fastened up, black slacks, and black shoes.

The second man, who looked a little older judging from his appearance, had a horseshoe hairline that was greying, light blue eyes, a lighter skin tone than his friend with wrinkles across his forehead and around his eyes, a clear indication of his advanced age...at least for this century, and stood a few inches shorter than his friend, around 5'9 to his 5'11. Her was wearing a simple white shirt with a black tie with white spots, a light grey jacket, beige slacks, and black shoes.

The moment that he looked at them, Six recognised them from the profiles that Dot had compiled on his new squad as Detective Norman Scully and Detective Michael Hitchcock, two of the oldest serving members of the Nine-Nine with their careers dating back to the seventies. The two had an impressive rap sheet quickly becoming the precincts greatest detectives, the latter still to that day having the most arrests on record.

All that changed in 1986 during a stint with Organized Crime when they had taken down Gio Costa for running cocaine. Something that happened on that job, something that had turned the two best detectives into...

"Morning." A voice pulled the Spartan from his thoughts regarding the two detectives to see Detective Scully greeting him with a friendly smile.

"Morning." Six replied nodding his head in acknowledgment as Hitchcock and Scully walked into the elevator.

"How's it going, Skid mark."

"Skid mark?" Six thought to himself as the two men turned so that their backs were facing him before Hitchcock reached over and slapped the control panel at the side of the room to close to door. As soon as the doors sealed shut, he felt the elevator start moving as he headed up to the fourth floor.

A comfortable silence appeared over the three inhabitants, something the Spartan greatly appreciated, which was quickly shattered as the two friends started talking about the great time, they had at a place called Wing Slutz the day before. What exactly this Wing Slutz was uncertain, but he suspected that it was either the name of a strip club where the theme was air hostesses and pilots, or a place that sold wings; regardless the name sounded a little inappropriate...of course he could just be over thinking things.

And mentioned someone called Kelly, he assumed that she was a close friend of Scully's hearing the affection in his voice when he mentioned her.

Within the span of ten seconds, the elevator had reached the fourth floor and the doors opened up with a ding. Once they opened the two detectives quickly exited the room where he heard a young woman's voice complain from outside. "Urgh! It's just Hitchcock and Scully."

"Morning guys." Six heard Scully greet happily as he stepped out of the elevator.

"Sup, turds." Well, at least he knew that it wasn't just him that he insulted...though he guessed that being called skid-mark was not as unpleasant as being called a turd...maybe it was a sign of affection? Seemed a little odd but who was he to judge?

Stepping out of the elevator and ducking to avoid hitting his head, they had not been built with augmented humans in mind...for obvious reasons, he walked onto the fourth floor and scanned the area.

The first thing that came to mind was that the place was unorganised and just generally untidy. The various desks were crammed with unnecessary clutter such as paperwork that was stacked unevenly, folders, coffee mugs, boxes of tissues, and various miscellaneous items. Wires were sticking out of the computers and hanging on the floor, a serious safety hazard; and at the back of the room, he spotted a large office that he suspected belonged to Captain Holt.

He found it peculiar that the captain's office was located on the same floor as the detectives rather than being situated on the top floor, but every precinct was different he guessed.

As he scanned the room his eyes landed on a group of people, detectives judging from the fact that they were out of uniform, that like the uniformed officers stared wide eyed at him; again, something he had grown accustomed too. Still, if they thought that he was tall he dared not think what they would've thought about Jorge and Kurt, the latter standing at a massive 8'2 out of armour.

First was a man that had short brown hair that was combed neatly without a single hair out of place, brown eyes with bags forming underneath them from many a late night, tanned skin with a thin layer of stubble growing through that did very little to distract from his very meek and domestic appearance and stood a little shorter than average around 5'7. He was wearing a light blue shirt that looked a size too big for him, a beige and blue striped tie, beige slacks that were held up by a dark brown belt that his badge was connected too, and black shoes.

He recognized the man as Detective Charles Boyle, the precincts resident workhorse. A talented detective in his own right even if he was not as physically gifted as the other members of his squad; his psych evaluation also stated that he had low self-esteem and confident issues that most lightly stemmed from his abusive relationship with his ex-wife Eleanor Boyle nee Horstweil.

Furthermore, also had shown signs of neuroticism and greatly depended on the friendship of one Jake Peralta; and was extremely critical when it came to food.

Next up was the young woman that was sitting at her desk. She had long dark brown hair that went down to her shoulders, dark brown eyes, a deep tan with gentle almost doe-like facial features that he was sure that many would consider the woman attractive in the girl next door way, light pink lips with what looked to be gloss covering them. She was wearing a light grey blazer with a pink blouse that had the top two buttons open, matching grey slacks and black boots.

The second detective he knew as Amy Santiago. The file that Dot compiled for him stated that he had a competitive edge that stemmed from being the daughter of the renown Victor "The Lion" Santiago and the only girl among seven brothers meaning that she always felt she needed to be better than the rest and strive for perfection. She was punctual and overbearing, or so Dot had told him from observing the squad; and has an intense rivalry with her partner Jake Peralta.

The third detective was another woman that was standing with a hot beverage in her hand. She had dark wavery black hair that went down past her shoulders, wearing black sunglasses despite the fact that they were inside, although the picture in her file showed that she had dark brown eyes, had a thin cut above her eyebrow, a rich tan with narrow and stern features and stood average height. She was wearing a black leather jacket, a dark blue blouse, black skinny jeans, and black boots; if he didn't know any better, he would've sworn she worked for ONI too.

Detective Rosalita "Rosa" Diaz. She had worked hard to hide her past from her colleagues that knew next to nothing about her private life...but nothing that an Artificial Intelligence from the twenty-sixth century couldn't dig up. She had various talents that ranged from being proficient in firearms being one of the squads' best marksmen, second only to Sergeant Jeffords before his incident. Attended the American Ballet Academy before ultimately being kicked out for attacking the other ballerinas and sent to juvie.

Attended Medical school for three years, along with business school and even passed and obtained a pilot licence; seemed he wasn't the only pilot in the precinct.

And last but not least was another man that could have easily been mistaken for a Spartan. The man was bald or at the very least shaved his hair off, dark brown eyes, black skin with nasolabial folds visible, a clear indication that the man both laughed or/and smiled a lot, a goatee, and stood around 6'3, just a little shorter than himself. He was wearing a white shirt with the arms rolled up that pressed his against his muscular build, a brown a white striped tie, purple suspenders that held up his beige trousers, and black shoes.

Sergeant Terrence "Terry" Jeffords. Once hailed as the precincts champion marksmen until he lost his edge. Not because he feared dying in the line of duty, but rather he was scared that he wouldn't see his twin daughters, Cagney and Lacey grow up. Often referred to himself in third person, a possible sign of dissociative identity disorder. He used to play as a line-backer for the Syracuse. Routinely buys foreign films to watch at home, and adores Yogurt, preferably mango flavour.

Staring back as the four looked at him from across the room, Six decided that now would be the time to introduce himself to the others and see if the Captain was in; though considering that he was the Captain it would've been strange if he wasn't.

Taking a step forward, Six watched as both Boyle and Santiago visible stiffed while Jeffords and Diaz had no reaction as he pushed open the gate and walked through it. Before he could speak however...

"Squad," Six heard a voice call out to see Captain Raymond Jacob Holt walking out of his office just as he walked through the gate.

The captain had short black and pepper hair that was in a buzzcut, dark brown eyes, black skin and stern cold features that he could have easily been mistaken for a Spartan or at the very least a veteran of the Human-Covenant war, and stood 6'0. He was wearing a simple white shirt that had a pair of Captain rank insignia on both of his collars, one of each side, the NYPD emblem stitched into his arms, and a pair of black glasses hanging from his breast pocket, black slacks and black shoes that had clearly been polished and well maintained from the shine they were giving off.

"Meet Detective Jericho Reach. He has transferred from the 0-7 and will be joining us for the foreseeable future." Captain Holt explained to the group of detectives.

"Hey." Amy smiled as she started to bring her hand up to give him a wave before quickly bringing it back down feeling embarrassed as the Spartan looked at her making her cheeks heat up. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Six responded with a nod making the young woman smile.

"Sup." Rosa greeted bobbing her head, though behind the sunglasses she was shamelessly checking him as her eyes trailed up and down his body; and she liked what she saw.

"Detective."

"Welcome to the Nine-Nine, Jericho." Terry welcomed the Spartan-III commando with a friendly smile and offered his hand to which Six accepted.

"Thank you, Sergeant." The Spartan said appreciating the warm welcome with a firm handshake but making sure not to do anything that would break his hand; breaking his superior officers hand would not go down well on his first day…or any day for that matter.

"You can introduce yourself properly later." Holt informed the Detectives as Six and Terry stopped shaking hands. " Reach, if you come to my office." He added before turning around silently and started walking back towards said office with Jericho following wordlessly behind him leaving the squad behind who watched as the captain and the massive detective headed to the office and closed the door behind them.

"So, first impressions?" Terry asked his squad before remembering that Charles hadn't uttered a word to him. Looking at the eccentric detective, he slapped him lightly in the chest. "Breath, Boyle. Damn!" he exclaimed.

"Sorry." Charles said breathlessly. "I think I forgot how to breath for a second...Looking into those eyes I felt like I had just entered the wolf den."

"He seems nice." Amy remarked from her seat as she looked in the direction of the office to see Captain Holt offering Jericho a seat. "He is pretty handsome too." She said resting her cheek in her palm. "If you like that sort of thing." She quickly corrected herself as she realized that she had said that out loud.

"And has a great ass as well." Rosa couldn't help but add after taking in the form of his retreating backside.

"Where do you think he got those scars from though?" Charles asked the question that was on everyone's mind. "Makes him look pretty intimidating."

"And hot." Rosa stated ignoring the looks she got from the others. She liked men that were dangerous and just from one encounter she had with the new detective she was getting those vibes from him.

"It doesn't matter where he got them from." Terry told them. "No-one is to ask him where he got them, is that clear?"

"Don't tell me you're not even the little bit interested, Sarge?" Amy questioned.

"Terry loves solving mysteries...but Terry's not going to cross the line." The Sergeant retorted quickly going into third person, a common trait of his. "I'm sure there are painful memories behind them that he doesn't want to talk about."

"Is anyone else getting Sigma vibes from him?" Gina asked as she came over and stood next to the others.

"I'm sure Jericho is impressive...but if anyone is a Sigma then it's Jake." Charles insisted making the others rolls their eyes. "Right guys?" he asked hoping for their support.

"Nope."

"No way."

"Not seeing it."

"Sigma's are lone wolfs...since when has Jake ever gone lone wolf?" Gina asked rhetorically not really caring what he, or anyone for that matter, had to say. "Jake's more of an Alpha."

"Beta more like." Amy snorted.

"I thought that was Charles?"

"You know I'm standing right here." Charles complained only to be ignored by Gina making him pout.

"Still, there is no way that he got those scars being a cop." Amy spoke up, like Gina pretending that she hadn't heard Charles defending Jake again. "It's a dangerous job but not that dangerous."

"Forget about the scars did you see those muscles of his?" Gina questioned. "I wouldn't say no to ripping that shirt off and sensually rubbing my fingers all across his chiselled..." She started to say making Amy blush as she tried and failed to get those such of thought out of her mind.

"I would like to remind everyone of proper workplace boundaries." Terry remarked.

"No need to be jealous, Ter-Bear." Gina giggled at Terry as she tried to wrap her arm his massive one. "No one will ever come between what we have." She added and pouted when he pulled his arm away.

"I wonder what Captain Holt is talking to Jericho about?" Charles asked out loud. "He looked pretty serious when he came out."

"He always looks serious." Rosa deadpanned.

"Probably about the reason why he had him transferred here." Amy shrugged as she looked back at the office to see Holt still talking to Jericho. "Which I am still curious about." she said looking at Terry knowing that if anyone knew why a new detective had been transferred then it would be him.

"Captain Holt has his reasons." The Sergeant answered stiffly refusing to elaborate further which only served to raise her curiosity. "If you're really curious you could always ask Captain Holt."

"Somehow I do not think he would appreciate that too much."

"I don't really care." Rosa shrugged her shoulders. "He seems alright so far...hopefully he won't be as energetic and annoying as the rest of you." She said before turning around and walking to her desk without any further word.

"Hurtful." Amy muttered as everyone went their separate ways leaving her alone to sit at her desk.

"But not untrue."

Looking back in the direction of the captain's office, Amy saw that Holt still deep in conversation with Jericho. Reading his lips, he mentioned something about not being concerned about something...which again only served to make her more curious about what they were actually talking about.

And what was so important significant that Captain Holt felt the need to close his door, he had been there a week now and that was probably the first time he had ever done so...meaning whatever it was about was for their ears only. Furthermore, why was she certain that she had heard the name Jericho Reach before? She wasn't one to pry...but she really wished she could have been snuck into the room along with them and hid in the corner so she could hear what they were talking about.

Subconsciously however she really hoped that Jericho wasn't going to interfere with the mentor mentee relationship she planned to create with Captain Holt. She had finally gotten a Captain that would help her achieve her dream of being the youngest person to ever to make captain...and if he did try and interfere with that, she would have no choice but to destroy him.

And cut! Well here is the next chapter of The Demon Of The Nine Nine. I hope you all enjoyed it from Six's perspective. Again, not a lot happened so not much to say. Next chapter you will see the conversation between Holt and Six and of course Jake's first appearance.

I probably could have done more but I've got a lot on my plate at the minute so this is the best I can do for now...besides, since the episodes are so short, I need to find a way to world-build rather than just skipping from one scene to another.

And it looks like Amy won't allow anyone to jeopardize her dream of becoming the youngest Captain in history.

Let me know what you all thought about the chapter.