ROOKIE BLUE (isn't mine)

COPPER

I'm a bit overwhelmed by all the positive reactions to the prologue of this alternate story, you guys absolutely rules !

-o-

Andy McNally was clearing her desk when the call came in. She had been stuck to duty desk for several days now. They were short of training officers and she had been pulled off active duty. She pressed her cell to her ear. Melanie Harlowe. Same abusive husband, same consequences. Some things never change, she thought. Her neighbours sounded frantic over the phone. She heard the rumour of the violent argument in the background. While she checked the address in the computer, she told them she would take care of it and tossed her cell on the desk. She got up from her chair and peered through the glass at the bullpen that was already deserted. Oliver Shaw, her training officer, was off shift but Noelle has not left yet, she had seen her cross the hall a few minutes ago. She clasped her cell, flipped it open, and pressed the speed dial. She just couldn't take off with a patrol car by herself, she needed back up.

Noelle's voice sounded distant and indistinct. "What is it this time McNally, I'm on my way home, this better be good." A car, several cars, honked in the distance. Obviously, she was not at the barn either.

"Noelle, you remember Melanie Harlowe?" she snapped.

"Doesn't ring a bell, no." The voice of the officer was barely audible, connexion was breaking up.

"Abusive husband, we found her a shelter with Peck but when her husband called she answered her phone anyway?"

"Yeah, yeah," she sighed. "I take it he's done it again, right? Is that why you're calling me? Andy, I told you, there's only so much you can do, you can't get personal. This job, you don't promise anything," she stated.

"But we know that she pressed charges at least once. And we booked him a couple of weeks ago." Even to her ears, she sounded desperate.

"I remember. But Andy, we only booked him for two hours. We had to let him go. You understand that if this woman doesn't want to press charges, and as a matter of fact, even if she does, we can't keep him in custody forever. Melanie's got to put her shit together and leave the bastard. Our job, it's not about fixing a bad relationship. You've been with us long enough to get that, right?"

Andy took a deep breath. "Noelle, the neighbours called me five minutes ago, complaining about the noise. They said that she was screaming and that he was bouncing her all over the place and everything. It's just… I can't take a patrol car by myself. Best would have my badge."

"How come they call you?"

Andy ignored the comment. "You know with the thing, the G10 meeting, all cars are downtown, coordinating with the troopers to keep the demonstrators at bay."

"Andy, I wish I could help but I'm almost home and my back is killing me. You'll have to find someone else. Do you want me to call Shaw to get him back to the barn?"

"No, no, it's okay. Noelle, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have cal…"

"Of course you should have. Now you call dispatch. And you keep me posted. Is that clear?" Her voice softened. "Andy, you know this is just one of those nights, so don't you do anything reckless, huh?"

Andy hung up and bit her lip. She took a sprint across the bullpen, checked the Detectives' office, and went upstairs to talk to Best but everyone included him was gone. She jogged back downstairs. With any luck Traci won't be gone, or even Gail. She didn't have a lot in common with her fellow rookie, but she was solid police and the one she had arrested the guy with the first time around. She barged into the locker room. "Traci! Gail? Anybody?" The locker room was empty. She slammed on a door, hissing in frustration. She had to calm down. She started pacing, trying to keep her breathing in check. There was always a way. She couldn't go there alone. She couldn't use a patrol car nor walk there alone, she pondered. At this point, she even toyed with the possibility of asking her father. She shook her head. He was probably hammered already, zoned out on his couch or sleeping on the rug under the coffee table. Don't go there. Plenty of time later to face the gloomy reality of your derelict family. Focus. She turned around and ran left in the hallway. Swinging the door open, she burst into the men's locker room.

"Wow, wow, wow, would you slow down now?" said the man standing in the middle of the room half naked. "What are you even doing here? What's the big rush?" His chest was bare, his jeans were undone, and his hair still wet from the shower.

That was this undercover guy. She'd seen him with Luke and Boyd the day before. What's his name? She blinked and caught her breath. "There's this woman," she blurted out, "she's been beaten, she's beaten right now and the neighbours called and I can't take a patrol car by myself, and…"

"Calm down," he said, his voice soothing and gruff at the same time, "breathe.". It was an odd combination. She stopped talking and just stood there, panting, feeling awkward. "Sometimes things go sideways. It's not your fault," he said matter-of-factly while she was attempting to keep her eyes away from his grey boxer shorts and open fly. That left her staring blankly at his chest. It had been some time now that she had been with someone, and he was an unexpected piece of eye candy. She blinked and locked her eyes on his. They were dark and intent. "There's nothing you can do about it. In the end, it all comes down to logistics." He walked up to her, concern written on his face and placed his hands on her arms. He cocked his head and smiled. "You okay?"

She couldn't afford to cry, she had to find a way to help Melanie before it was too late. She nodded quickly and looked away. There was something about him that made her quiver inside. "Do you have a car?" She shrugged away from his grasp.

"Do I have a car?"

"I mean, can I have your keys?" She held out her hand.

"You want my keys?" His eyebrows raised in honest surprise.

Why was he being so dense! She needed help, not a lecture. "Is that working for you, huh? I get it, you've been away a long time but you're still a cop right? Stop repeating everything I say and act like one for five minutes!" she started to yell. "There's a woman out there and she needs my help…"

His mouth twitched. "What have you got?" he asked. He stepped away from her. He fastened his shoes, put a sweater on, stuffed his shirt and socks in a bag pack and faced her.

"Melanie Harlowe, 26, repeated abuse. Reported her husband in 2008. I arrested the guy a couple of weeks ago. I just received a call from the neighbours," she checked her wrist watch, "8 minutes ago reporting that Melanie was being beaten again."

"Why would they call you?" he frowned.

"I gave them my card."

"You what? What's your name?"

"McNally. Andy," she said, red creeping up her cheeks.

He smiled again. So she was Ollie's rookie. Easy on the eyes. "McNally, don't ever get personal. That's not your job." She winced in frustration. Noelle's words.

"But that's kind of the purpose of what we do," she protested. "We're here to help people!"

His face softened. Heart on her sleeve. "You're not a social worker. You're a cop. You're here to serve, protect and enforce the law. If you think otherwise, you'll end up putting lots of good people at risk. If you hadn't given the neighbours your number, they would have called 911 and help would be on its way already." She looked down, her cheeks burning. "I guess you didn't call dispatch?" He flashed her a brilliant grin. "Okay. So now that we've got that out of the way, you coming or not?" he asked, dragging her outside, "or are you really going to let this woman be beaten to death?" he teased her. He stopped abruptly, faced her and held out his hand. "Sam. Sam Swarek."

She looked up and beamed at him. She shook his hand, nodding quietly. A lock of stray hair brushed the tip of her nose. His eyes went wide for a split second. Ollie was right, she was trouble. It was his turn to blink. "Come on, step it up, McNally."