A/N: We know that neither Gerrard nor Sinclair are exactly choir boys… can you imagine what is it like to actually WORK for them?

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GERRARD & SINCLAIR / YOU ABUSED

You abused my good will and took advantage of me… you abused

Once upon a time, when you're so green you'd drip chlorophyll instead of blood if you got hurt; you tended to idolize your higher ups.

You believed they got where they are after many hours of walking the beat, after running after many suspects, after putting away many criminals. And you want to be just like them when you grow up. They have this semi-god glow about them that blinds you and makes you feel like worshipping them. In your star-filled eyes, they can do no wrong; and their decisions, no matter how harsh, are always right. If someone got hurt by those decisions, you're the first one to believe that it pained them to take them, and that they agonized for hours on end, and that they analyzed every angle until they were one hundred three per cent sure there was no other way out.

Captains never EVER hurt their people on purpose, or put their own benefit before the force. And if you believed that, one day you woke up to find out you had bought a tiny island with a statue on it…

After a while, however, the tarnish starts loosing its glow, and the true colors start shining through. You realize that some of those above you were placed there without having done more than an hour of leg work. You start paying more attention to the rumor mill and start putting two and two together when it comes to the truthfulness of their actions and their decisions.

In short, you start seeing them as they really are. And it's not a pretty picture.

The worst part is, they started thinking they were going to do some good. A lot of good. They were going to be different form their predecessors, they were going to keep clean, and they were not going to make a compromise between what was right and their political future. The worst part is, some of them really believed it, and they fought the system for as long as they could.

But sometimes the system just eats you up. Those who managed to resist end up being spitted by it, demoted, removed from active duty, given an early retirement… and end up sitting on the sidelines, watching how the others play the game they refused to get involved with in the first place. The saddest part is that they are considered fools and losers for standing their ground instead of being praised for their courage to stand up to corruption.

The worst part is when you get caught in between. No mater how hard you try to stay away from the whole politics game, sooner or later you do something that pulls you closer to it. Sometimes, it is something as simple as making Detective. Then you do something else, no biggie, just doing your job the best you can, and the next thing you know you're making headlines… and not just in the newspaper. Next thing you know, you're on one-way first-name basis and the brass knows who you are. Soon you realize they know a lot more about you than you'd like. And such information in their hands could be dangerous.

Gerrard thought he had me all figured out, that the mere mention of disappointing my father would be enough to make me march to whatever tune he played. If he had really done his homework, he'd have realized that neither Pops nor I give a rat's ass about those kinds of games… or what the other one thinks about us. But I played nice, stiffening just so, enough for him to think he had me where he wanted.

When he and Sinclair thought Mac would make one fine scapegoat, they thought they had their stooge cut out for them. Mac would never suspect me, would he? He would notice if they placed a tail on him, but me… he'd never think I was up to no good. Brilliant plan, except that I wasn't in on it.

To say that neither one of them was pleased would be an understatement. When Mac pulled the rug from under them, they partially blamed me. Sinclair keeps reminding me that there's a whole shiny world of opportunities for a young, fine detective such as myself… it's just a matter of being in the right place, with the right people. I told him I was more from the old school of earning things on my own than accepting hand downs from the higher ups.

He looked at me with a mixture of pity and amusement. I didn't like his grin one bit. He commented that it would really be a shame if potential such as mine got wasted as a measly detective, never aspiring to higher and better things. He was pushing me, and if you REALLY knew me, you'd know I despise being pushed. So I pushed back. I reminded him that it was the measly detectives that become heroes in the long run just by doing their job, and if that didn't work, I could always have their job.

I took a badge to serve and protect, and that's an oath I swear to uphold.

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"Vocé abuso" by P.A.C. Marqués and A.C. Jocafi is a lovely Brazilian piece; one of those songs that if you fall for the music you think it's such a romantic song… until you hear the lyrics, that is…